


#AlternaCap

by StrivingArtist



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Humor, Bucky Makes Bad Decisions, F/F, Female Bucky Barnes, Female Tony Stark, Femslash, Modern Bucky Barnes, Rule 63, Toni is impatient, both of them have crushes, internet fame, wlw need variety
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-06-09 18:19:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15273468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrivingArtist/pseuds/StrivingArtist
Summary: All Bucky wanted to do was to make Captain America proud and beat up the Nazis she met. But someone was filming. And Bucky was wearing her favorite sweatshirt. The one with Cap's shield on it.Now there's a hashtag, and just about everyone, including the Avengers wants #AlternaCap to join them.Bucky's current response plan involves moving out of state, dying her hair, becoming a florist, pretending to be straight and possibly becoming vegan and/or Amish. She's not exactly handling it well.





	1. Trending on Twitter

**Author's Note:**

> started this because WLW need variety. We'll see how it goes.

* * *

“In my defense Winnie, it’s not like I knew someone was filming at the time.”

“Your defense is that you thought no one was going to film when a crazy lady got into a fight with a bunch of bigass guys? In New York City?”

“With Nazis! Winn! You keep skipping over the part about there being Nazis! Literal damn nazis! I mean yeah, the news says they were limited edition Hydra nazis, but that doesn’t change the fact that they were  _ nazis _ !”

“I know Becks, and I’m the one that sent you that thing about the moral imperative to punch nazis that Captain America did. But that was before you were on probation big sister. Now? Now you’ve gotten into a fight when Judge Jameson is looking for any excuse to throw you in jail. And this definitely lets him.”

This was the challenge in having a lawyer for a sibling. 

“That’s the part you’re focusing--” 

“You! Are! Trending! On! Twitter! I don’t even have Twitter and I know you are because the news has picked it up too!” She interrupted, screaming loud enough that Bucky pulled the phone away from her ear. She whacked her forehead against the wall of her tiny, crappy apartment, and let her sister yell until she ran out of steam. 

“There’s one other thing, Winn.”

“Oh god what.”

“Did you watch the video?”

“Shockingly, no, I didn’t want to see you get mildly stabbed while trying to take on six guys. I’d like to live to see my daughter’s graduation you know, not die of a stress induced heart attack because my big sister is an idiot.”

“I was wearing my favorite sweatshirt.”

“You weren’t.”

“I was.”

“Oh fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“You were wearing your Captain America sweatshirt?”

“Yes.”

“While you fought Nazis.”

“Yes.”

“Please say you had the hood up.”

“Yes.”

She heard the long deep sigh on the other end of the line. 

“Well at least that’s something. Dammit. Yelling at you woke Elli up. Look. Keep your head down, deny that it was you if anyone asks, and burn the sweatshirt. I gotta go, bye big sister, love ya, even if you are an idiot.”

The phone beeped, and she tucked it into the bag on her hip before sliding down the wall to sit in a heap. Her leg twinged at her. Mild or not, she had technically been stabbed ten hours ago. She’d cleaned it thoroughly, bandaged it, and started praying that if it got bad she could pass it off as a kitchen accident at the ER. Winn’s fancy lawyer friends were the only reason Bucky wasn’t in prison for the bar fight last year: Judge Jameson had hated her on sight. One toe out of line and he’d have justification to throw her in a cell. Fighting six dudes, three of which were in the hospital and the other three in jail cells was was way more than one toe. Just the damage she caused to that storefront would have been enough.

Bucky’s life was fucked enough as it was, she didn’t need to add a stint in prison. 

Dishonorably discharged during Don’t Ask Don’t Tell because she rambled while she thought she was dying. Missing an arm, which was why she thought she was dying in the first place. Broke as anything. Living in an apartment that could maybe be counted as a closet. Working two jobs and still having to grin and bear it when Winnie snuck money into the pocket of her coat. Unable to handle roommates because the idea of someone in her space made her want to vomit. Single for the third year in a row after the disaster that was Jackie. Wearing a prosthetic that was top of the line right up until it broke down and she couldn’t afford the repairs, which meant she now had a very expensive hunk of machinery that on good days moved kind of, sort of where she told it to go and on bad days flailed out to punch walls at random. 

And now, she was the subject of a twitter frenzy. 

It would fade. It had to. 

She pulled up the app for the two hundred and forty seventh time since the video went viral that morning.

It had to be calming down. 

She tapped on #AlternaCap. 

Oh god it was worse. 

People were tagging the Avengers on their official accounts, asking what they thought of it. Bucky frowned at the sidebar that said #OnHisSix, tapped it reluctantly, and discovered the new movement to put her on the Avengers. Because that would go so well. Put the cripple with the super heroes. 

Disabled. 

Dammit. Her therapist would see her and know she’d called herself a cripple again. Then there would be another round of positivity speeches. 

Then Bucky frowned harder. The damn video had a million views and climbing, how had no one noticed that her left arm wasn’t real? Scrolling again, then trying searching in the tag brought up nothing but exclamations of how hot she was. That didn’t make sense. She’d been in cargo jeans and a sweatshirt, no one could see her face. How was that hot? The only comments about her arm were that it had to be jacked. 

And yeah, at one point she clocked a guy with it and put him on the ground with a single hit. That was because it was a heavy ass slab of metal. It was like getting clotheslined by an ibeam. 

Wait. 

She scrolled up again and read closer. 

A million views and counting and nobody had realized she was a she. They thought she was a dude. Bucky couldn’t decide if she was insulted or flattered. Yeah, she wasn’t some waifish little thing, but she was definitely a woman. 

Then it got worse. 

One tweet, shared and re-shared filled up the feed. 

One tweet from the  _ actual _ Captain America, asking for a bit of help finding #AlternaCap to thank him, because Captain America thought she was a guy too. Obviously, it took off like wildfire since Steve Rogers had sent something like four tweets in the last year, and one of them had said ‘pppppppppoooooooooooiikkkkkk’

That was bad. Very bad. It was very very bad manners to turn down a polite request from Steve Freaking Rogers, and it was even worse when the guy was sincere. Except he was only ever sincere, it was some weird genetic modification thing -- that wasn’t the point. Bucky closed her eyes and breathed slowly, in and out, in and out, willing away the panic attack at the combined terror of A. Prison, B. Captain America, and C. The Media Whirlwind this sort of shit would cause. 

Ten breaths later she was only about three percent calmer. That lasted until she refreshed twitter. 

At which point a noise like a strangled goose came out of her mouth.

Right there was the response by Toni Stark directly asking AlternaCap to come forward to get his laurels. Then something about not being known for her patience, and a gif of a satellite camera zooming in. Toni Stark. Brilliant, gorgeous, badass Toni Stark. 

The Toni Stark that ate up all the oxygen in every room she walked into. The Toni Stark that flew a nuke into space to save the city. Toni Stark. 

Toni Stark was trying to find AlternaCap. 

Bucky was fucked. 

Shaking, Bucky deleted her twitter account, then shifted to every social media site she could think of. After half an hour, she still wasn’t sure if her facebook was hidden or deleted, but she was freaking out too hard to try any longer. This wasn’t something she could take to Winnie. Her sister didn’t need to know she wasn’t half as recovered as she claimed. From her favorites, Bucky pulled up the number for her therapist, and tried to breathe while it rang. 

“--yeah, yeah, I know you can find anyone, shut up. This is Sam Wilson.”

“Sam.”

She had the best therapist. Most of their sessions were shit talking each other the whole time because it let Bucky talk honestly. But when it came down to it, Sam had her back. 

It took one word out of Bucky’s mouth for Sam to understand she was having trouble and start talking her through relaxation exercises. 

* * *

 

Internet famous was only supposed to last a few days. Wasn’t that what everyone said? 

That kid with the shoes. Grumpy Cat. The rainbow cat thing. Fuck. Memes changed so fast Bucky didn’t try to keep up anymore. 

#AlternaCap should have blown over in a couple of days. It didn't. Of course it didn’t. That would have been a nice thing in Bucky’s life. And that couldn’t be allowed. 

It really should have blown over when laser eyed robots attacked Baltimore. 

All it did was prompt a renewed round of #OnHisSix which the Avengers gleefully referenced in post clean up interviews. Deleting her account didn’t mean that Bucky didn't keep checking twitter. Regularly. Possibly more like compulsively. 

She hadn’t mentioned the reason behind the panic attack to Sam, just that she was having one, and when she was asked by one of the high schoolers at the coffee shop why she’d vanished from Insta, Bucky glared until they stopped. 

Bucky had  _ just _ been starting to relax from the hair-triggered, feral-cat state she’d been sitting in since it all started. Baltimore screwed that over royally. 

Another two days, and both Bucky’s fear, and the puncture on her leg were in better shape. Then there were sea monsters in some tiny place called Cape Breton, Nova Scotia and Captain America almost got eaten and suddenly they were looking for her again. 

A full week went by, the hashtag nearly died off, then Toni Stark tweeted “Come out Come out wherever you are. #AlternaCap” and Bucky had to call Sam from the supply room of the warehouse where she worked as a janitor.

One more week, and Toni Stark tweeted “Okay. Bored now.” Which sounded like the majority of what she tweeted during senate hearings, much to the internet’s collective delight. So Bucky didn't think anything of it. She was almost back to her baseline level of panicked, where it didn't impact her externally, just gave her stomach aches and nausea. 

Bucky was doing so well. 

Even Sam was proud of her. 

Then Toni Goddamn Stark waltzed right up to the counter at the coffee shop looking like the child of Sex and War, and winked.

“I’ll take a large black eye no room, and a taste of whatever part of you you’ll let me have.”

 

* * *

 

There was a funny thing that happened when Bucky and her metric fuckton of issues got provoked. Sometimes it meant she curled up in a ball and waited for the sweet release of meds. And sometimes it went the other way. 

“Try that again and I’ll give you another black eye for free.”

Toni blinked, then a small smile spread over her cheeks, mischievous and brilliant. The trademark red lips were the only thing that looked like Toni’s normal public appearance. Her clothes were comfortable not trendy, jeans, a hoodie, and hair in a ponytail. 

Considering that Toni Stark was Bucky’s reason for joining the military, reason for getting blown up, reason for not giving up when she was discharged, and the first woman Bucky ever masturbated to, if it hadn’t been for the terror, Bucky probably would have been babbling praise. Instead, Bucky looked bored, annoyed, and unimpressed. Not to mention, sarcastic as shit. Like she’d been before everything fell apart, and the way she still pretended to be around her family.

“I already know, you know.”

“Know what?”

“Who you are.”

“As it’s written on my name tag, that’s not all that impressive.” She quipped, tamping the shot and levering it into the machine to brew.

Stark laughed, “Yeah, but I know what you do at night.”

“You know I work as a janitor? Kinda creepy you knowing that, but still not sure what’s it to ya.”

“Harriet Rebecca Barnes.”

“Well yeah, what the hell else is Bucky gonna be short for? Didn't pull it outta the clear blue sky. I also answer to Becks.”

Cup filled, shots added, lid in place, she slid it across the counter to Stark who had narrowed her eyes to a comical degree.

“Do you know who  _ I  _ am?”

“Nah. See I’m a simple Amish girl, and I ain’t ever seen any of the four million times your face has been on a screen, Ms Stark. Papa says that the TV is the devil’s work.”

“That so?” She asked, pausing for a drink of her coffee, “Guess you haven’t seen any of the ten million times that video of you has been played then.”

“Hm?” Bucky rinsed the shot cups and set them back in place. “Seen what?”

“There a reason you’re playing this so close to the chest, Harry?”

“Don’t know whatcha talking about, Ms Stark. Can I get you anything else? Muffin? Bagel?”

“A long walk on the beach?” Toni grinned.

“A second Black eye?”

The deadpan response without missing a beat set the woman cackling. She slid a hundred dollars and a business card across the counter, winked one last time and exited. 

Bucky shivered, pocketed the cash--against company policy--and read the card. 

It wasn’t Iron Man’s. It was Captain America’s. His name, a phone number, and on the back, a quick note jotted down. 

_ Just want to get to say thanks. _

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t perfect. In fact it was far from perfect. Miles from it. But there was no way in hell that Toni was going to stop trying to contact Bucky because of that little display, and maybe just maybe, Steve Rogers would be able to talk Iron Man out of it. Hence Bucky’s terribly inadequate plan. 

There weren’t phone booths in New York anymore, using her actual cell phone was out of the question, and if Toni didn’t get talked around on the subject, then showing up on camera at a phone in a library was a bad plan. So Bucky risked it, wandered into the seediest side of town, and bought a burner phone with cash. Hopefully Jameson never found out. 

She shuddered, staring at the numbers that would dial Steve Rogers, ridiculous hunk of muscle he was, and built up the courage to hit call. 

This was round four of her trying to place the call and if she waited any longer it would be too late and she’d have to try to be brave the next day. Which was unlikely. 

She hit call and held it to her ear, eyes closed and forehead against the wall of her crappy apartment. 

Around the third ring, she realized that it was unlikely that Captain America picked up random phone calls from random phone numbers. On the fifth she realized she should have written something down in case she had to leave a message and panicked harder. 

On the sixth, it picked up. 

“Yeah sorry, one second, yes I know how a phone works, thanks. Hello?”

Holy shit Bucky was on the phone with Captain America. 

“Hello? Is this— I’m sorry I don’t know what else to call you— is this Alternacap? Toni won’t tell me anything about you. She said she didn’t want to spoil the surprise. I know you don’t want the media attention, that’s pretty obvious. And I’m not going to force you into the public. I wanted to let you know that— thank you. That’s what I wanted to say. There were dozens of people, hundreds, that must have walked past that group that night and none of them did anything about it. But you did. And I wanted you to know that thanks to you we got some information we’ve been looking for for months. Nothing about it can be announced until we can hit all of the bases, but you should know that what you did— it helped. Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome.” 

It was the only thing she could think to say because her mother raised her with manners dammit. And when Captain America thanks you, you reply politely, goddammit. 

“Oh. Thank you ma’am.”

“You call me ma’am again and I’ll climb through this phone and there won’t be anyone except for AlternaCap from now on.”

Manners only went so far. 

The silence lasted long enough she had time to worry about threatening a national icon. 

Luckily Cap laughed, “I don’t doubt it. So what should I call you? If you’re comfortable telling me, of course.”

“Depends, are you just gonna be all Captainy around Stark until she tells you if I don’t?”

“No ma’am.”

“What did I just say, Rogers?”

“Well at least I’d get to meet you before the murder started.” He laughed again. 

Bucky grinned. The guy reminded her of her unit. Of heat and sand and insults thrown around in place of compliments by guys who treated her like an equal. Cap could probably put her down without fully waking up from a hangover but they laughed anyway. 

“But no, I won’t ask Toni to tell me about you if you’d rather I not know.”

“She might tell you anyway.”

“I’ll start talking about Howie’s sex life again. Usually shuts her up real fast.”

Bucky barked out a laugh. “How about a deal then? I’ll tell you my name, and you keep Toni from showing up in my life.”

“That’s a big ask.”

Bucky waited, silent and praying she wouldn’t have to destroy the burner phone in a few seconds. Then move. And change her name. And dye her hair. Possibly become a florist. Whatever it took. 

“Counter offer. I’ll talk Toni into calming down, but I want to meet you in person.”

Fuck. 

“Counter-counter offer. I destroy my phone and flee the state.”

“You do that and I don’t think the whole team could hold Toni back from trying to find you. She hasn’t stopped talking about you since she tracked you down. I should have noticed that she never used pronouns.”

“Captain…”

“One meeting. And I’ll get Nat to help you vanish if you need it.”

“Deal.”

“I’ll text a location.”

“Captain America knows how to text?” She couldn’t help herself.

“Well fuck you too, ma’am.”

 

* * *

 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Bad idea. Very bad idea. 

Random Central Park meetup with Captain America was a terrible idea. 

She could see Stark Tower between the trees she was hiding under. 

Terrible idea. 

Any minute news crews would show up. 

Someone would put it together. 

#AlternaCap would explode. 

Bucky fiddled with her phone, contemplating a quick call to Sam so he could remind her that breathing was non-optional. 

“Hi. Thank you for meeting me.”

Captain America was definitely capable of  -- but probably morally opposed to -- tackling her if she ran for it. So, Bucky took a deep breath, and clung to sarcasm.

“Well, I did tell you what would happen if you called me ma’am again.”

“Thought you were going to climb through the phone?”

“Tactically disadvantageous. You were with the Avengers at the time. Now you’re alone. Much easier to take you down out here and become the new Captain. Think anyone will notice the switch?”

He smiled, slowly wider and wider until it over took his whole face.

“Steven Grant Rogers.” He said, holding out his hand. His left hand. 

As her only choices were to shake his hand awkwardly with her right, kick him in the shin and sprint, or acknowledge her prosthetic, she reached out with her left, hidden beneath a coat and a glove, to take his hand. 

“Harriet Rebecca Barnes.”

The finger articulation had been jankety for six months but it managed an approximation of a grip and handshake. Good job craptastic arm. She went to pull back, but Steve had tightened his hold. 

“That’s how you took down the guys.”

“Most people drop pretty fast when you smack ‘em in the face with a big piece of metal.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“I bet you have.”

“Built my whole technique around it in fact.”

“Are ya planning to hold my hand all day?”

“Are you going to punch me with this?”

“Are you gonna call me ma’am again?”

He laughed louder, nodded and let go.

“I’m Steve.”

“Bucky.”

“That’s not what I expected you to say.”

“Unit gave it to me.”

She saw when the light went off in his eyes and she heard her slip. 

“Unit.” He repeated.

“Army.” She answered the unspoken question.

“That’s how...”

“IED in Afghanistan.”

“Toni must not know that or she wouldn’t have walked away at all.” He mumbled, “thank you for your service. And at least the VA has gotten better at helping since Toni went on her crusade. She doesn’t like to talk about it but she’s done a lot of good.”

“I’m sure she has.”

“Shamed most of Congress until they approved the necessary funding.”

“That’s nice of her.”

“She and I drop in on VA centers when we can. Veterans deserve better than they were getting and those who come home injured shouldn’t be seen as something to be ashamed of. The two of us manage to bring in better press and get them the attention that keeps it in the news. I know you said you don’t want her to… Bucky?”

“Stevie.”

His whole face smooshed down when he was frowning.

“You look a bit—“

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t look it.”

“Am.”

“You look like you’re about to punch a guy. I’m the only guy around. So this seems like something I need to know.”

Anyone else she would have already insulted them and marched home. But again, manners plus Captain America was making that harder. Plus him. Himself. 

Yes he was gorgeous, beyond gorgeous. A literal work of art. He was hot enough her almost perfectly gay heart was tempted. That was a stupidly superficial reason to answer him. But. He also had a reputation for being an excellent human being, an upstanding gentleman, and he was a literal superhero. And Sam always told her she should let herself trust when it felt right. 

“VA isn’t for me.” She forced out. 

“If you’re uncomfortable I know someone that—“

“Captain, the VA doesn’t give a damn about people with a dishonorable discharge.” She gave him a moment to process that, then continued, “Seems like you were gearing up towards talking me into some photo ops, so let me just stop you before you start. Bad idea. Bad press. Bad optics. Very bad idea. I didn’t come forwards before because nothing good would come out of it. But Stark found me. And you wanted to meet me. So here we are. Captain Steve Rogers, motherfucking superhero and Bucky Barnes, dishonorable discharge and cripple.”

“Disabled.” Steve interrupted, like he’d been trained to say it, but not meeting her eye. 

“Call it what you want. Look. We had a deal. I met you. Go talk Iron Man into leaving me alone.”

“Bucky.” He caught her by the shoulder, stammering when he realized how high the prosthetic went, “you-you- uh, shit, uh, look I just wanted to say thank you. That’s why Toni found you. You took out six hydra agents on your own. Two of them talked and we’ve taken out half a dozen bases. You saved a lot of lives. You deserved to know that.”

It was nice to hear, but it wasn’t worth the disaster that talking to them again would cause. Bucky nodded, pulled her shoulder free, and walked away with her head held high. 

* * *

 

Toni was bouncing on her heels when Steve walked off the elevator.

“Soooooo? How was it? How was she? Isn’t she great? Did she do that thing with her eyebrows where she looks like she’s going to deploy lasers? I wonder if she’d let me give her laser vision. It would make a great superpower.”

“Toni.”

“Why didn’t you bring her back? Ugh. Did she ask for time to think about it? What is there to think about? Who doesn’t want to be a superhero? Evil people. That’s who.” Toni gasped over dramatically, “Is AlternaCap evil? My heart is broken. But I’m going to love having a reason to see her again. Let’s make sure we drag the fight out for a couple months.”

Steve dropped onto a chair and waited for Iron Man to calm down. 

“You know why I went to meet with her Toni.”

“Blah blah wants us to leave her alone. Blah blah false modesty. You went to talk her out of all that, and into a super suit with us.”

“She’s not interested.”

Toni narrowed her eyes, “you’re saying that like we aren’t interested.”

“Maybe we aren’t.”

“Capsicle.”

“No. Toni. I told you. And I told her. Leave her alone. You know if she’d asked for some reward you’d be happy to give her anything, especially when the fifth base had the biggest archive yet. If she asked for money or a car or a job or a new arm, you would have done it immediately, but she asked us to leave her alone, so that’s what we’re going to do.”

“But Steve, Steven. Darling. My frost bitten bestie. You can’t take something interesting away from me. That isn’t fair. And she’s incredibly interesting.”

“Leave her alone.”

“But Steeeeveeeee.”

“Toni, remember that long talk you gave about consent in the modern era after the Chitauri that made me think I had accidentally offended you or assaulted you and so we didn’t talk for a month?”

“I vaguely recall it.”

“Do you remember telling me that just because-”

“Winghead.” 

“--I thought someone would like something--”

“Stevecicle.”

“--I couldn’t force it on them--” 

“Cap.”

“--even if it was a widely accepted nice thing?”

“I was talking about you being too chivalrous, not about giving someone money and a hero suit they’d be under no obligation to use.”

Steve waited for Iron Man to finish thinking it through, and knew it was done when she scoffed and dramatically rolled her eyes into her head. 

“Fine! Fine. You win. I’ll leave the pretty woman alone. I won’t tell anyone how incredible she is. I won’t tell the rest of the team. I won’t even tell Pepper to fix AlternaCap’s credit score or something. I’ll let her languish in her stupid jobs in her awful apartment, and I won’t bother her in any way in her personal life.”

“Thank you.”

“I hate you.”


	2. Concessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The leaving Bucky alone plan doesn't go great.

* * *

 

Steve rubbed his hand over his eyes, wrung out by the day. 

Dishonorable discharge. 

There wasn’t a long list that would earn that. Nothing on it was a good thing. But Bucky was smart enough to amuse Toni. Good enough in a fight to handle six men when she was unarmed. She was funny. She was tough as nails. Sarcastic. Up until she said those words, Steve had been idly fantasizing about having found a best friend and new teammate. 

But Bucky was right. The PR alone would be a nightmare. He didn’t mind fighting a good fight, but she didn’t want it. As much trouble as it would cause the Avengers to run around with her, it would ruin Bucky’s life if it was public. Not to mention that with that on her record, she wasn’t eligible for a gun license, and in some states, wasn’t even allowed to vote. He’d talked about his support for those laws not more than a year earlier. 

After all, anyone that was thrown out of the army couldn’t be trusted. 

It didn’t make sense with what he knew of her. Nobody vile enough or cruel enough to be thrown out would have stepped up to face Hydra ike she’d done. She was a good enough person that even when she’d had the chance to ask for anything as a reward, she just wanted to be left alone.

This wasn’t his business. She wanted to be left in peace, and he would do that.

Before he could change his mind, he pulled up the rarely used Twitter app and typed. Everything he tweeted showed up on the news, even the pocket typing. She’d see it. She’d know he’d kept his word.

Message posted, he stepped into the kitchen to make another protein shake to slake his insatiable metabolism. 

The blender stopped, and his resolve wilted. 

“Dammit. Jarvis? Is there any information about Harriet Rebecca Barnes’ discharge from service?”

“Harriet Rebecca Barnes was dishonorably discharged from the Army in 2008”

“Can you get me the Court Martial record?”

“No, Sir.”

“Why not?”

“There was no court martial.”

“So why?”

“That information is not available in the public record sir. If you wish to see her full record you would need to submit a request for a copy from the Pentagon using”

“No. I think that crosses a line. Thank you Jarvis.”

Steve and his protein shake sat down and thumbed through twitter, wondering if one of the likes or responses to his tweet was from Bucky. Probably not. The system had fucked her over. She didn’t want this. She wasn’t staring at twitter and hoping he’d talk to her.

She wanted to be left alone. 

He should respect that. 

And he would. 

He meant to. 

Really.

He did.

Dammit.

“Jarvis, please alert the FAA of a flight to DC, and contact General Landry’s aide in Arlington to set up a dinner meeting with him. He owes me a couple favors.”

“When are you leaving, Captain?”

“Right now.”

 

* * *

 

Toni tapped her nail against the tabletop, a fast, irritated stacatto that proved how distracted she was. Two new types of weapons found on baddies, the data trove from the latest Hydra base, and the half-developed plans to go after the last one, and Toni was  _ bored _ . 

No. Not really. Bored was the wrong word. 

Distracted was a better word. By a pretty lady with a pretty smile and a mean left hook who had absolutely no desire to see Toni again. 

It wasn’t a problem Toni was used to solving. Too clingy? Not an issue, she had a protocol for that. Too invested? All good, she could call Pep and distract them. Greedy or demanding or manipulative? Well, they had to be punished for being irredeemable assholes, but still, there was a system. 

What she wanted to do was sic Jarvis on the woman’s records, find out why she wouldn’t let the Avengers to hail her as a hero and then talk her into going on a date. Or skip the dinner and talking part and just proceed to the nearest horizontal surface because  _ hnnggh  _ Bucky was pretty. Had a real dumb name, but so pretty. And the sass. It was glorious. Bucky kept up with Toni, which was impressive on anyone, but she did it with a wickedness, and a heaping dash of deadly charm.

Yeah, Toni preferred to get to take her out on a date and wow her with tales of heroic adventures and her genius inventions and only after that seduce her into a bed, but Toni was a realist. If it was just going to be sex, she could come to terms with that. Not that realism stopped the way her brain kept spinning out ideas of Bucky cuddled up in the tower, or at her side at a gala or trading snark from the corner of the shop. 

That’s how bad it was. Toni kept picturing Bucky in the  _ shop _ .

Maybe helping to move the heavier items because Bucky was sort of ripped and should just live all the time in a tank top. Toni was sure her arms were gorgeous underneath the sweatshirt. Or they could go to the gym, and Toni could teach Bucky some better moves. Sneaky moves. The moves that Romanov had taught her. The ones that ended with faces buried between thighs. At which point Bucky would probably say something cutting and witty, and then there would be no choice but to have the suit sweep them back to the penthouse where they could practice those moves again until they curled up and…. Toni was back to thinking about cuddling. 

It was a problem.

So the science was ignored and Toni kept tapping her finger. 

It had been 92 hours since Toni walked out of a Brooklyn coffee shop with a drink and a crush, and thanks to Steve, she couldn’t even do a bit of harmless stalking. Researching would have been the nicer word to use. Stalking was more honest. Toni forced her hand to stop tapping and scrubbed them both over her face and into her hair. 

“J?”

“Yes, Miss?”

“What, exactly, did I promise our dear Stevesicle?”

“Would you like me to play the audio recording?”

“Definitely not, but go ahead.” Toni stood up as it started to run. She needed more coffee. 

_ “Fine! Fine. You win. I’ll leave the pretty woman alone. I won’t tell anyone how incredible she is. I won’t tell the rest of the team. I won’t even tell Pepper to fix AlternaCap’s credit score or something. I’ll let her languish in her stupid jobs in her awful apartment, and I won’t bother her in any way in her personal life.” _

Dum-E beeped at her, low and apologetic, which made sense once Toni found the carafe empty of coffee, but full of oil. 

“Good effort buddy, but you know I can’t drink that. Guess I’ll head to the --”

“Miss?” Jarvis asked when Toni had stared at the cup in her hand with glee for a few seconds of silence. 

“I’m just, uh…. I’m gonna go get a cup of coffee.”

“I must assume you don’t plan to go to the common floor.”

“Nope.”

“Nor to the coffee shop in the lobby.”

“They pull their shots too fast.”

“Nor will you go to the establishment nearest to the tower.”

“Good coffee is worth a short drive, J.”

“Miss, I must remind you that you promised Captain Rogers that you would leave Miss Barnes alone.”

Toni glared at the camera in the corner of the elevator while she pulled on an Black Sabbath hoodie.

“I’m just going to get a cup of coffee. If our ever elusive twitter hero happens to be there, what can I do. It’s not a restraining order, I’m allowed to see her, I just can’t bother her.”

“Miss.”

“Open the elevator, Jarvis.”

“Miss.”

“ _ Lalalalalala _ . Can’t hear you, J. Open the doors.”

“Miss, if you wait an hour, Miss Barnes will have started her shift.”

Her forehead pressed against the door while a grin stretched over her face.

 

* * *

 

Bucky slumped against the door, willing her prosthetic to behave long enough for her to open the thing and get inside. It was being more finicky that usual, bending at the wrist but not the elbow for some inexplicable reason, and her other hand was carrying an entire grocery run. Setting down the bags meant admitting defeat. 

It was Thursday, she had the day off until the shift at the warehouse that evening, and she had mocha chip ice cream to ease the pain of three days of near-debilitating anxiety since she saw Steve’s tweet.

_ “I keep my word. Thank you #AlternaCap” _

She got what she wanted. They were going to leave her alone. Bucky could continue her senseless existence in her crappy life. How nice.

No one was in the hall to see the way she had to lean back to get the key into the lock, or how she barely managed to turn the handle using her full hand. 

She was smiling when she got in, proud of defeating her arm for another day. 

It didn’t last long. 

Bucky heard the movement while in the postage stamp that was her kitchen, spun, and pitched the carton of ice cream at the intruder’s head before reaching for a knife. 

Captain America snatched the ice cream middair, then held his arms up in surrender. He looked placating in his gestures, but his eyes had an intensity she’d never seen outside of action movies and onlooker clips of the Avengers in battle. 

“What do you--? No, wait.  _ Why _ ? Why are you in my house?”

Captain America’s judgy eyes made an appearance as he glanced around the room. “This is, at best, a tenement, Becks, and I’m pretty sure the place I lived in as a kid was bigger.”

“You’re here just to insult where I live?”

“It’s not why I came, but it’s important to mention now that I’ve seen it. I also have a sudden need to check your eyesight since you being blind is the only reason I can think of why you wouldn’t’ve let Toni buy you a house.”

“Asshole.”

“That the best insult the Army taught you? They’ve really let themselves go.”

“Why are you here.” 

She took the ice cream out of his hand, shoved it into the tiny freezer, and reached for the next bag.

“Why were you kicked out of the Army?”

“Cause I got my arm blown off Cap,” she grumbled with fake cheer, “they’ve never been a fan of cripples.”

“Disabled. And that’s not why.”

She whirled on him, “Because the Army thought that me liking women, that  _ who I am _ is illegal and immoral so they kicked me out on my ass missing an arm with a dishonorable discharge to fuck over the rest of my life.”

Damn his eyes were intense. 

“Bucky. A blue ticket doesn’t get you that.”

“Yeah. I know.” She broke eye contact, “But that’s what it says on the paper.”

Pasta on the shelf. Sauce next to it. Then the ramen. Ignore Captain America. Almost-expired sausage in the freezer.  Just another normal day. 

“Becks, you know why.”

“Of course I do. Not all the grunts in the service are idiots. ‘Sides, I was a sniper. Everyone knows snipers are the geniuses of the bunch, not like the normal infantry.” Maybe if she could goad him into the sarcastic banter she could dodge this. 

“Why didn’t you tell Toni?” Maybe not. “Bucky. You got kicked out in 2008 after your VIP convoy got blown up in Afghanistan and they needed someone to pin the blame on. Why didn’t you say?”

“Why are you always so dramatic? Just say it. We both know, there’s no audience, Jesus Captain.”

“You were there the day Toni got taken by the Ten Rings.”

“Yeah. Was driving the lead vehicle. We blew first. No reason I should have survived it when the rest didn’t. Woke up in a hospital bed in Germany and got told a couple hours later I was being discharged from service as soon as I could stand without fainting.”

“Do you hate her?” He asked.

“What? No.”

“You can. She’s the reason your life went to hell.” 

“God No. Fuck No. That wasn’t -- look Toni Stark is the reason I -- She’s the -- just --” Bucky forced herself to take a breath before she started blushing, “No. That shit wasn’t her fault. Me being a fuck up isn’t her fault.”

Bucky pulled a spoon out of the drawer, grabbed the ice cream, and shoved past the man towards the futon she hadn’t bothered to fold down as a bed since moving in. Then she pointedly dropped her feet on the side to prevent him from joining her. 

“Neither was the convoy getting hit. And you aren’t a fuck up.”

Mocha chip ice cream tasted better when she wasn’t being scolded.

“Why are you here, Captain?”

“Let Toni help you.”

“Ha, yeah, no. Not happening.”

“Let her put her swarm of lawyers to good use.”

“I don’t want that.”

“Then let her hand you a couple million dollars. She won’t even notice it gone and you can -- Jesus, Bucky, I wasn’t kidding, this place should be condemned, and I think there’s something living in your wall.” It was possible to eat ice cream angrily. Bucky was proving that. “Let Stark take care of this. You’re a wounded veteran, you should be treated like one, not like this, and what you did to Hydra -- you’re a hero.”

She’d always been good at charming someone. Right up until Afghanistan. Charm was a matter of finding the thing a person wanted to be complimented on, and doing so. That meant she was also pretty good at finding the thing a person didn’t want mentioned. 

“So you don’t keep your word after all do you, Stevie? No. Don’t. I asked for one thing. I wanted to be left alone. You showing up in my -- yes I know it’s shitty, but it’s still my home -- you being here? You said you wouldn’t do this. Now I’m gonna have to move to Bolivia and dye my hair and take up needlepoint and fortune telling, so thank you very much for that, you can see yourself out.”

Frustrated, he hissed between clenched teeth, “Bucky.”

“Don’t!” The outburst surprised her. Jumping to her feet, she yelled, slamming her ice cream on the arm of the futon and gesturing with the spoon. Which promptly bent as her hand spasmed. It was wrapped around her fingers, locking them together. She sighed, “Yeah, ok, sure, that makes sense with how today is going. Great.”

Bucky glared when Steve reached to help, and pried it off with her right hand. 

“You are a stubborn SOB, you know that?” Steve said with a grin in his voice.

“Well first off, you were one of my idols growing up, so, Pot. Kettle. Second, I’m not a son of a bitch, I’m the bitch herself. Now get out of my house.”

“Yeah alright.”

“You’re going to leave me alone? No, don’t try to give me that All-American aw shucks smile, that only works on the straight girls. Are you going to leave me alone or do I need to start shopping for yurts on the Russian steppes?”

“Make sure you research yaks too, I hear that’s the main business venture.”

“Captain, I always heard that you kept your promises.”

He gave her a long look, like he was weighing her for final judgement. “I do and I will. I said I’d get  _ Toni _ off your back.”

He slipped out the door with a smug quirk to his mouth before she could amend her request.

 

* * *

 

The shop was fairly quiet for being hipster trash in Brooklyn. Comfy, well-aged furniture densely packed into the brick walled space with eclectic lighting and inexplicable covers of songs. Toni liked it because no one talked to her while she was there. 

And because of the view.

Toni saw when Bucky stepped out of the back to begin her shift. Hair tied back in a loose bun, with smudges of shadows under her eyes, she was a testament to the broken capitalist system.

Of course she saw her come out, Toni was watching for her and knew her schedule. Not in a creepy way. In a protective way. If Toni could figure out how to track her down, so could evil, so Toni was helping. 

Bucky did not see her. 

That was the concession Toni made with the promise she gave. So fine, it was a little creepy that Toni showed up half an hour before Bucky’s shift started, ordered two coffees, poured one into a thermos, and tapped at a tablet in the corner for three or four hours, but now it was a thing that Toni did. 

It was a routine. 

Routine was good, at least according to Toni’s therapists it was. Plus, it really was good coffee.

And, sitting inside was less creepy than when she would sit in her car and hack a security feed to watch, which she’d done for the first few days.

Bucky was quiet normally. She let the teenagers working with her babble at her about the boys they liked and the test they were studying for, and gave good advice. She never let the younger girls take the trash out to the alley after dusk fell, and told off a customer who was aggressively flirting with another customer in line. 

None of this was helping Toni’s fixation. 

After a week of this silent observation, Toni was confident that Bucky was never going to realize who was sitting in the yellow wingback in a stained sweatshirt. She was temporarily distracted from her increasingly domestic fantasies by the upgrade of Nat’s widow bites, when a cup set down in front of her. Toni looked up, ready to bite off the head of whoever it was. Her mouth snapped shut when she saw Bucky. 

“You drank your second cup too fast, whatever you brought to work on today actually kept your attention. Thought ya might need another.” Bucky explained. “Triple mocha with spice. If you keep drinking black coffee your stomach is going to secede, so drink it.”

“I like black coffee.”

“I know. Drink it anyway and I’ll give you another black eye. Or don’t, and I really will give you another black eye.”

Toni smiled, stupidly amused by the answer, “Am I offended? I think I should be offended. Can I speak to your manager, miss, I’m feeling threatened.”

“Sure thing, you can tell him all about how intimidating you find me. Everyone’ll believe that. You’re known for being such a wilting flower.”

“That was my nickname growing up.”

“I can see it.”

“Would you like to see more?”

Their banter faltered, and something that would have been a blush if it hadn’t been tamped down tried to show up on Bucky’s cheeks. 

“Drink it,” she mumbled to her shoes, before slipping behind the counter. 

That didn’t count as bothering Bucky. That was Bucky bothering Toni.

And it was amazing.

Toni tightened her jaw to stop smiling like a sap, and took a sip. The noise she made at the taste came out louder than expected, and prompted a short laugh from behind the bar. For a second they made eye contact, bright and sparkling, before Bucky had to help another customer.

The blush on her cheeks lingered. 

It was  _ amazing. _

 

* * *

 

 Toni Stark had to be the stupidest genius on the planet. Bucky was sure of that. Just because she wasn’t in heels and a suit and perfect makeup and a full blowout didn’t make her less stunning. It didn’t make her look like someone else. 

So, yes, Bucky tagged her about fourteen seconds after starting her shift because she was a former sniper with PTSD, she always knew about everyone in the shop. 

They were on day three of Toni’s supposed subterfuge when Bucky realized that this fit around Steve’s promise. Toni  _ was _ leaving her alone, under the strictest definition, which sounded like something Captain America, the little shit, would do. It was a week later that Bucky spent the first twelve minutes of her break watching Toni pick up her cup, try to drink, realize it was empty, frown, set it down, and then repeat it thirty seconds later. Bringing her a mocha was impulse, and if she’d stopped to think about it, she’d have never done it. 

Instead she got to see the delighted smile, and hear the moan of satisfaction that Bucky wanted to play on repeat for a solid hour, or, you know, provoke new and increasingly desperate sounds. Whichever. 

Bucky had no problem letting that daydream spin out in her mind while she steamed almond milk. 

She’d walk over, set down the cup with the drink of the day, drop a quick kiss on Toni’s hair and go back to work. 

Not that it would ever happen. 

But damn it was a nice thought. 

Toni Stark’s tendency to fixate on a thing was legendary, and usually it resulted in technological breakthroughs. They always faded though. Bucky knew that this fixation, probably driven by Steve telling Toni no, would also fade. Until then, Becks let it simmer; an idle thought to make her smile. Something she could have fake conversations about while walking home. She would go over whatever short interaction they’d had, and let fantasy take over from there. 

Quite a bit of imaginary drama had gone down while Bucky walked home.  

They’d been doing this for eleven days. 

Bucky fantasizing about Toni Stark long predated the woman showing up in the shop to drink an unholy amount of caffeine. 

It was nice to think about, at least. 

Maybe it had side effects, besides grinning like a moron, and turning into a helpless pile of lesbian everytime Toni got that adorable enchanted glimmer in her eyes. Maybe thinking about Toni was good for her since it had been nine days since she’d needed to call Sam, and that was a damn record. 

So, Becks was in a good place, mentally. Not physically. 

Physically, Bucky was walking home from her shift at the warehouse at three am, imagining coming home to a girlfriend curled up on the futon -- she never fantasized about going to Toni’s ridiculous tower, that seemed impossible -- waiting for her, through the roughest part of town, where yelling fire wouldn’t help a bit. 

That was when she heard it. 

For all the shit it caused her, the silver lining of PTSD was that no one could sneak up on her. 

She heard the safety of weapons disengaging, and rolled her metal fingers, praying her arm would behave for this. A smirk played across her face when she realized she was wearing her Captain America hoodie. Irony. Or Justice. Either was good. 

“Did you think we wouldn’t find you, bitch?” Guy with Weapon Number One asked. 

Guy with Weapon Numbers Two and Three emerged from an alleyway, overconfident. They had Hammertech pistols, which had the same chance of hitting where they were aimed as they did of exploding for no reason. The muggers in the area rarely went with such crap weapons. They were smarter than that. 

That meant the most likely explanation was someone had doxxed her from the video, and thought they’d outdo the Nazis… or something. Or they were Hydra. Or Nazi fanboys. Or poor muggers. She shook her head, there were too many possible options for who the idiots were, but between the calm of her good mood, and the confidence training, it didn’t look like a serious problem.

Bucky waited a second, then another, and asked as genuinely as she could, “Don’t you want to wait for backup? There’s only three of you?”

“And one of you.”

“That’s my point.”

“Cut off one head,” the first guy said, “And two more will take its place.”

Okay. So. That narrowed it down to Hydra, or Hydra fanboys. Aka, Nazis. 

“I cut off six, and there’s three of you. Did you get your motto inverted? Because it’s going to be much easier for Cap to take you guys down if there’s a law of diminishing return. Or are you guys overachievers?” Bucky drawled, listening for the help she believed had to be nearby, and hearing nothing. “Gotta admit, I’m unimpressed.”

“You will be.” Guy Number Three bragged. 

She wasn’t.

Twenty minutes later, Bucky walked into her terrible apartment humming, with a hand over the bullet graze on her side, having left all three of them tied to lampposts with their own clothes. She washed it, disinfected it, decided it didn’t even need butterflies, took her meds and fell asleep, sure that the worst result of the night was a hole to be patched in her favorite sweatshirt. 

* * *

When she woke up in the morning, #AlternaCapIsBack was trending.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am trying not to let myself stress about this fic, so I'm just enjoying myself with these wonderful helpless lesbians.


	3. Hot Gossip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toni doesn't like it when someone hurts her things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this fic makes me happy. It's like eating marshmallows for my writer brain. Still no real idea of the full story. I'm improving.

 

Steve lurked in the doorway to the living room as Toni paused the video, rolled it back to the start, and played it again. Titled simply “He’s Back!” The video went viral within a few hours of posting. It was only a few minutes long, but Steve had watched it at least a dozen times, not counting the four times he’d watched Toni watch it since coming up to the main floor.

The attackers weren’t actually Hydra operatives, just the kind of terrified bullies that admired Nazis enough to try to commit murder in the middle of New York so that Nazis might think they were cool. Which meant they were idiots. _That_ meant Bucky had a pretty easy time of it. She had the first guy disarmed and crying within the few seconds of the video’s start. The second followed soon after. Whoever the third goon was had enough training to remember that firing a gun was the most important step in threatening someone with a gun.

The shot wasn’t even close.

Loud enough to be dimly heard through the window the bystander was recording from, the only reaction from Bucky was an obviously disappointed tilt to her head. If he got a guess, Steve was sure she’d looked more annoyed than threatened, but with the hood up, the bad lighting, and the high angle, he couldn’t tell. Becks gestured, like she was giving the Nazi another opportunity to get it right.

Closer, but not a hit.

Bucky had the guy unconscious a moment later.

Frustrating, funny, and fearless, sure.

None of that explained why Toni stared so angrily at the tiny screen while Becks walked out of frame.

“You know that you can’t change the event by watching it again, Toni? Or did you stay up all night working on a machine that would let you?”

“Deal’s off Capsicle.”

“Toni.”

“No.” Toni spun, “No. I agreed to not throw money at her, or buy her a house. I agreed to stay out of her personal life, and I did what I said because the coffee shop doesn’t count and she’s the one that bothers me anyway, but this is a new event. Ergo: this is a new circumstance and I can do what I want now.”

“What do you mean coffee shop doesn’t count? Toni have you been--”

“Obviously I have, Steve. I’m me. Now, are you going to help, or let this woman _who got shot_ because she was wearing your merch keep running around without help?”

Whatever he’d planned to say, probably a lecture on the importance of respecting Bucky’s requests, fell to pieces when he heard what Toni said.

Shot.

That didn’t make sense.

They missed. Both of them.

Steve saw the impacts in the wall and lamppost.

He mentally replayed the fight and couldn’t find it.

“When?”

“Second shot. I think it was a graze, but still. Steven.”

Toni didn’t know about Bucky’s dishonorable discharge. Clearly. Or the arm. Despite, apparently, showing up in the coffee shop where Bucky worked, Toni couldn’t possibly know the woman’s full history. Nothing and no one would have stopped Toni Stark’s indomitable need to Fix Things, if she’d known.

Steve was working with various starry eyed generals in DC to instigate a review and revision to Becks’ discharge, followed by back pay, but it was slow since he couldn’t bring Bucky with him. He’d not returned to visit her since that frustrating conversation where she refused his help. It was better to ask for forgiveness than permission.

Steve felt bad.

The footage ran through again, and this time, he noticed the twitch as the bullet grazed her side.

He didn’t feel that bad.

“Steve--”

“Your turn, Toni. She didn’t listen to me last time, maybe she’ll listen to you.”

All at once, Toni squinted and stepped backwards, “Why are you agreeing so easily? You never agree easily. Are you feeling ok? Did you hit your head? Did Thor bring you mead? Are you drunk? You do know your name is Steve Rogers aka, the human equivalent of the mountain that wouldn’t come to Mohammed?”

“I’m fine Shellhead.”

“I can ask her to join the Avengers?”

“Yes.”

“I can talk to her without you showing up to drag me away?”

“Yes.”

“I can infringe on her personal life?”

“Yes.”

“So you’re retracting our previous agreement?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that.”

“If I may, Miss,” Jarvis interrupted, “your previous agreement has been superseded.”

Toni beamed.

“Jarvis said so, must be true, bye Cap, home before dinner, set an extra plate for the newest Avenger! Love you Bye!” She shouted as she turned for the elevator. Waiting until the doors shut and Toni was gone, Steve glanced upwards. “Jarvis, is Toni aware of Becks’ dishonorable discharge? Or when it happened?”

“No, Captain, after identifying Ms Barnes, Ma’am left too quickly to read the collected information. After her return, she did not out of, as she described it, ‘an effort to respect the privacy of her new teammate.’”

“And after I met Bucky?”

“Ma’am locked herself out of all of the files, and sent the override code to Miss Potts.”

“So she doesn’t know any of what’s coming.”

“No, Captain. Ma’am is not even aware of Ms Barnes’ prosthetic.”

“Who’s got a prosthetic?” Clint shouted, dropping onto the couch. “Actually, I know that part. Jarvis said Ms Barnes’ prosthetic. So. Who’s Ms Barnes?”

Steve glanced at the tv screen where the fight was, once again, playing through.

“Oh Dayum! AlternaCap took those guys down with only one arm?” Clint jumped back up to watch the video, commenting throughout. “Oh, niiiiice. Yes, good hit. And turn. Yes. Awesome. Now the other. Gotta love that sass, she actually gave the guy another chance to shoot her. Balls the size of a moon. That’s great. Aaaaand nighty night. Damn. And she’s got a prosthetic… what? Arm? Yeah, it would have to be. That’s so cool. Jarvis, bring up the first video in a second window.”

Blinking, Steve hesitated to ask, and Clint took pity on him.

“Which part? Figuring out the arm? Or figuring out AlternaCap’s a woman?”

“The second one.”

“I’ve been fighting with Nat for years, Rogers, I know what to look for.” He shrugged. “But what’s got you looking all mischievous and guilty about it?”

“Toni is going to talk to her, and doesn’t know Bucky lost--”

“Bucky? Seriously?”

“Army nickname. Rebecca.”

“Gotcha.”

“Toni doesn’t know Bucky lost her arm in 2008.”

“Toni’s not going to care that -- wait. 2008? 2008. You aren’t saying that.”

“I am.”

“AlternaCap was in Toni’s convoy. And Toni doesn’t know.”

“Yeah. And? Toni has a crush on her.”

Clint’s stunned expression melted into something, well, mischievous and guilty. He climbed forwards to perch on the coffee table with a delighted grin. “Cap, this is going to be better than a soap opera. Where is Toni meeting her? Do we have eyes on them? Did you bug Toni? Did you bug Barnes? Bucky is a dumb name, I’m not using it. Tell me you have them bugged.”

“We aren’t going to spy on them!” Steve insisted.

“Heck yes we are!” Giddy, Clint flailed, “Damn, I wish Sam wasn’t on a mission, he’s the best at blending in with a crowd. Oh! Does Nat know? I think she has bugs on all of Toni’s sunglasses. Can I tell Nat?”

“Can you tell me _what_?” Natasha said, announcing her presence.

Steve gestured helplessly. There was no stopping it now.

 

* * *

 

Becks yawned, rolled her arm to limber up the shoulder, and promised herself another blackeye once the manager went on break. After taking care of the graze, she’d not slept well, too preoccupied with the way her arm was pulling. Sometime around seven am she flicked open twitter to try and bore herself back into a few more hours of rest.

Yeah.

Bucky had really damn bad luck.

And, once again was the subject of a hashtag.

Going to sleep after seeing that wasn’t an option. They still thought she was a guy, but eventually they’d catch on to truth. Then they’d find her, and people with cameras would show up, and someone would pull her service record and then, well. Then whatever weird crush the country had on AlternaCap would evaporate, that was sure.

Sam’s phone went through to voicemail, which was fair. No one wanted to deal with early morning panic attacks. It took a while to come down, and whens he did, she was more exhausted than before she slept.

Hence her leaning against the counter holding a rag so she could pretend she was cleaning not vertically napping. That was an actual thing. She learned it in the service. Waiting on flight deck for a call, half the unit dozed off to take up the time. She was good at it. Since the shop was quiet, it wasn’t even setting off her anxiety to close her eyes in public.

Becks yawned again, scrubbing at her face. Ten more minutes, maybe fifteen, and Micah would go on break. Which was supposed to be fifteen minutes long but usually lasted more like forty five. She could probably make, drink, and hide the evidence of two blackeyes in that much time.

The door swung open so fast it knocked a picture off the wall. The crack of the door and the crash of the frame pulled Bucky’s attention instantly.

Toni Stark, perfect makeup, perfect hair, and wearing an outfit that probably cost more than most cars, glanced across the shop with the focus that looked more appropriate on a battlefield. The lone customer had dumped their drink across the table, and was blinking in shock. Micah rushed from the back to gape.  

Bucky set down the rag, awake and alert.

Something must have happened. Some kind of disaster or threat or maybe twitter had figured out who she was and Toni was coming to gloat. Not the time to think about what it was. Iron Man would tell her what was happening.  If it was a threat, she would deal with it. If it was twitter, maybe she could ask for a favor and flee the country to take up underwater basket weaving in The Philippines. Bucky was scanning for a weapon to face the whatever-the-hell-it-was when Toni spoke.

“I’ll give you five thousand dollars each if you both walk out of here right now.”

“Aren’t you--”

“Ten thousand. No talking. Just go.”

The adrenaline thundering through Bucky’s chest faltered at that. It full on stumbled when Toni pulled four piles of cash out of her jacket and tossed them. Toni finally made eye contact with Becks, and didn’t let go while the pair of giddy New Yorkers headed for the exit. One hand reached behind her, locked the door, flipped the sign, and then Toni walked to the counter.

Scratch that.

It wasn’t Toni right then.

It was Iron Man.

Aaaand the adrenaline was back. Fuck.

Fuck.

Bucky didn’t want to have to fight aliens.  

“What do you need?” Bucky clipped, military precise. “If you need me to--”

“You. Got. Shot.”

“It was graze. I’m fine.” Becks glanced to the street, looking for scared civilians or a military presence. She tried to find anything that would explain why Toni Stark -- who usually showed up looking snuggly and grease stained -- looked like she was headed to war in a bespoke silk suit. “What’s the situation?”

“The situation is that I’m done with this. I promised the country’s favorite freezer-burned super soldier that I wouldn’t interfere in your personal life or help fix things for you. That was last time. That was before a group of idiots managed to track you down. So now I’m done, and you’re coming with me. Us. Because this? All this? And the fighting guys on the street, alone? And the -- oh, yeah -- Getting Shot? I’m done with that.”

“That’s the only reason you’re here? Because there was another video?”

“Bucky, I am not going to stand in front of the press and explain that AlternaCap got killed because the Avengers didn’t take care of you!”

The adrenaline from Toni’s arrival crashed into the self-loathing, converting into vitriol and distrust. Bucky swallowed, turning away and picking up the first thing she saw in a pantomime of cleaning.

“Right. Yeah. I’d hate to cause you any PR trouble, Ms Stark. Thanks for the offer of whatever the fuck it is you think I need from you, but I’ll be fine.”

“Did you get shot last night?”

“It was a graze, Ms Stark.”

“Still counts. You’re in danger. Come live in my Tower.”

“Thanks, no. You may have noticed that your Tower gets attacked just about every two months, so I don’t see how that’s any safer for me. And, you may have also noticed, Sweet Thing, that there’s a couple cameras pointed at it all the damn time.”

Toni rolled her eyes, some of the tension leaking out of her, and turning into flirtation, “Have you not seen you? I’ll buy you a mirror. Trust me, you’re gonna look great on Page 6 in something slinky and punkish.”

“Have you not talked to Captain America?”

“I have. Nice guy, too tall, never met a soapbox he didn't like.”

“About me.”

“Yes! He said I could come ask you this! See? Even Cap wants you with us! You have to! It’d be unpatriotic to deny his spangly ass!”

Bucky scoffed. “He didn’t tell you.”

The sentence stopped Toni in her tracks. The playful banter dropped away. The light tone evaporated. The hint of a grin turned into a cautious scowl.

“Didn’t tell me what?”

“I already told one Avenger why me being near y’all is a terrible idea. I’m not explaining it twice. Ask the Captain.” Becks looks down, noticing that her hands had moved on autopilot to make Toni’s order. “Here’s a blackeye for you. No charge.”

If Toni sounded cautious, Bucky was resigned. Exhausted. Planning to steal a boat and learn to sail while she fled the city.

She didn’t think about handing over the cup with her left hand.

Not until the prosthetic spasmed, crushed it, and there was steaming coffee pooling in the glove she wore.

Toni jolted. “Oh crap -- do you need -- can I -- why aren’t you -- how badass are you Barnes? I can see the steam.”

Bucky gingerly grabbed the edge of the latex glove, pulling down and away, letting coffee pour onto the rag to catch as much of it as possible. It caught between the plates on her middle finger for a second, but snapped off cleanly. Technically her arm was waterproof, but she showered with it in a bag to avoid the occasional short or glitch. This would make the next day fun.

Looking up to ask if Toni wanted a coffee bad enough for Bucky to make a new one, she froze.

Her head was tilted to the side, hand outreached like the action was aborted midway, mouth halfway forming a word, Toni was fixed on the shiny metal of Bucky’s hand.

That… no. That was surprising. Of everyone in the world, Bucky really didn’t think that Toni Stark would have an issue with a prosthetic. It was falling to shit, but it had been top of the line once. Maybe that was the problem. It was bad tech, and Toni Stark was offended by its existence. Or the fact that it had destroyed her coffee.

Toni touched a couple buttons on her bracelet, and let out a single strained breath.

“I should ask Steve?”

“He knows.”

“Can’t I do the research myself? It’ll be faster.”

“Your choice, I guess.”

This was weird. Subdued Toni was weird.

“So if I find out what it is you’re worried about and we still want you in the Avengers then you’ll go --”

“M’not gonna be an Avenger.”

Toni didn’t answer. With a whine, an Iron suit landed outside the shop. A few seconds later, Bucky was alone, in a locked store, unable to explain the bizarre smile/frown/grimace/smirk… thing… that Toni had expressed at the end.

Not that it mattered.

She was moving to a fishing village in Vietnam where she would sell plates off her arm until she developed a profitable skill.

But first.

Three rings before the call was answered.

“What have you done, sister of mine?”

 

* * *

 

It turned out Nat did have bugs in all of Toni’s sunglasses.

So the trio got a sideways, slightly obscured view of things with questionable audio until Jarvis did something that fixed the audio and rotated the image.

When asked, Jarvis pointedly refused to answer why he had never told Toni about the bugs. Nat claimed it was part of a pact from the ‘palladium episode’ and refused to say more.

Jarvis was even nice enough to put the feed on the main screen so they could gossip like bitties without crowding Natasha’s phone.

Clint’s initial reaction as Toni arrived was to coo, “Aww, look at her, she’s like murder Bambi, no wonder Toni like her.”

Natasha’s was to say proudly, “Good, she listened about the power of cash.”

“You told Toni to bribe people with cash.”

“Gift them with cash. And it’s a highly effective and non-violent way of clearing a room. I thought you’d be proud.”

Steve chuckled, but didn’t deny it. He’d pull a few stacks of cash for himself next time he was near a bank.

Things devolved after that.

By the time they watched Toni turn to her armor and the feed cut out, Steve was sick to his stomach.

It hadn’t gone to plan.

Bucky was cantankerous and troubled and scarred, yes. Toni was abrasive and pushy and desperate to help, fine. But they like each other. Or they had, up until Steve’s soap opera loving heart got involved and failed to provide one of his best friends with critical information. It’s not like Steve kept a secret about her parent’s death or something -- he wasn’t a complete dick -- but he should have brought her up to speed before she flitted out the door.

“--lost her arm in Afghanistan in 2008.”

“Toni’s convoy?”

“According to Cap.”

Steve tuned back into the conversation. “She admitted as much.”

“And that’s why she doesn’t want to be an Avenger? Cap, buddy, you have to admit that doesn’t make any sense.”

“That’s not why Clint.”

Nat figured it out. Of course. Red room training. Superspies were like that.

“Don’t Ask Don’t Tell was still in effect in 2008. Barnes is concerned about a Less than Honorable discharge.” Nat murmured.

“Becks is concerned because she has a _Dishonorable_ discharge.” Steve corrected.

Natasha blinked. Twice. Obviously she was rocked to her core. Obviously she understood the irregularity. Clint’s sharp inhale confirmed his understanding.

Liquid and quietly angry, Natasha said, “This is why you have gone to DC nine times since meeting Barnes.”

“Yes.”

“Why isn’t it done?”

“Funny, if I knew that, I’d have taken care of the problem by now.”

Clint was, for whatever reason, now standing on the sill of the window. “Nat, Conspiracy or bad luck?”

“Don’t know enough yet.”

“Constance?”

“No. Landowski?”

“Demoted. Fareed?”

“On deployment.”

“Good place to start though.”

Steve interrupted, “To start what?”

Clint laughed, “Nat gets a little protective of people the US government has screwed over by being racists and bigots.” Her grin was all teeth. “She’ll find out what your roadblock is.”

Steve would have stammered if he’d had the mental faculty to try to speak at all.

But behind Clint, bright red against a brilliant blue sky, there was a suit of armor approaching, carrying his best friend. And she was going to need him. As a punching bag or a shoulder to cry on, she was going to need him. So he was going to be there for her.

 

* * *

 


	4. Catastrophe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone needs a hug.

Toni gestured, bringing back up the images of Bucky Barnes when she was discharged from service. One armed, bleary eyed from pain meds, confused, alone, and carrying a single duffel bag, there were three pictures. They’d been taken by a pool reporter at the air base, and then never run in any report. 

Jarvis found them.

J also tracked down the pre and post surgery pictures from Hammertech’s servers showing the piece of utter garbage they had grafted onto Bucky’s shoulder, and the terrible job they’d done with it. The records told a much more dangerous story than what the Hammer press releases bragged about. The schematics of the arm had… there  _ was _ promise there. Toni admitted that after fuming at the obvious flaws for a few minutes. It didn’t excuse using veterans as unwitting test subjects, but whoever had come up with the neural grafting was brilliant. 

Which brought Toni back around to why Bucky needed an arm in the first place. 

When she got back from Afghanistan, after Obie, after the announcement, Toni asked the army to let her meet with all the soldiers that had been in the convoy. Bucky got skipped because Bucky was no longer a soldier by then. 

It had been years, and not once had Toni pulled up the records; she just trusted what the generals gave her. 

No damn wonder the woman didn’t want to join the Avengers -- she shouldn’t want anything to do with Toni. No one would. That was obvious. 

“Tones.”

Becks was one more person whose life was ruined by how stupidly blind Toni had been with her drinking and partying and careless abandon. 

“Toni, come on, you look like you’re spiralling.”

It wasn’t even hard to -- someone grabbed her hand, and Toni finally looked away from the photos. Steve was carefully removing the gauntlet from her wrist. When had she put that on?

“Let’s avoid DumE needing to clean up after you shatter something with that, Toni. I know he enjoys it, but it never goes well.”

It was time for her line in the familiar banter. She needed to defend her bot, saying that DumE could handle anything he wanted, and it wasn’t her fault that she’d created a bot that had a selective process for what he enjoyed. They’d had variations of this conversation dozens of times in the shop. Nothing came out of her mouth though. So she nodded and let Steve have the gauntlet. 

“Is that helping? Looking at her files?” 

“It’s highly educational Cap.”

“It was the first time you read it, sure, but you’ve had it memorized for a couple of hours now.”

“Despite what the writer in my unofficial biog--”

“Why aren’t you talking to her?” Steve interrupted. “Why aren’t you in her apartment telling her how much more you like her now that you know this?”

“She--”

“Doesn’t hold a grudge against you Toni. Not at all. When I asked her about it she started babbling before she blushed and hid in a carton of ice cream.”

Toni forced her face to move like it was smiling. 

“If I keep showing up around her, someone will figure it out. I know most people are idiots, but there are occasional flashes of competence.”

“So what’s the problem? You went there today to tell her to come move into the Tower.”

Her eyes flicked over to the couch where her imagination had firmly planted Bucky, lounging in a crop top and laughing, and winced. 

“Yeah I did.” Toni knew what she wanted. That didn’t mean she couldn’t see when something was falling away. Bucky deserved to have whatever life she wanted to live. Toni couldn’t force her to live in the one that she day dreamed about. However, penance couldn’t be stopped. Whatever life Becks wanted, Toni would make sure it was safe, protected, and well funded. She could do that, at least. Looking back to Steve, she continued, “But she doesn’t want to live here. Cap. All evidence to the contrary, I don’t actually always have to get my way.”

“Toni--”

“Drop it for now Cap. You said Nat was on her way to DC. Bring me up to speed on what that is?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Bucky smiled as Elli smooshed tiny fingers into her mouth, trying to share a handful of soggy cheerios. That opened her mouth enough that Elli succeeded, and there was no choice but to eat them. Chubby cheeks beamed as the toddler reached for another handful. 

The metal arm twitched on the ground, making Elli giggle and climb on Bucky’s stomach. 

That was what Bucky got for laying on the ground in a lump of self pity and regret. 

Attacked by a toddler. 

The door swung open and Elli babbled at her mom’s return.

“How are ya Becks?”

“Crappy, Winn.”

“You haven’t moved since I went to your apartment, which, I’d like to remind you I told you not to live in. I need a shower, and that building needs to be burned down.”

“Thank you W--nngrh.”

Elli took the distraction and crammed in some more cheerios. 

“How many have you let her feed you?” Winn asked, “It’s probably too many, come here Elli, let’s get you some new snacks and a game, I have to talk to your aunt.”

Bucky rolled, dragging herself to her knees, and glared as her hand spasmed a few times. 

Forty eight hours since she soaked it in coffee, and the twitching was getting worse. At this rate she might have to admit defeat and take the arm off altogether. According to the internet, and the forum on Hammertech glitches, she could put a bunch of KT tape over the exposed wiring and not be in too much agony. She’d be down an arm, but wouldn’t accidentally knock a toddler across the room. 

So yeah, her life wasn’t spectacular. 

Staying with her sister because she was afraid to go to her apartment because, at the end of the day, she didn’t want to have to look Toni Stark in the eye once the woman knew Bucky had been in the convoy. That was dumb, and Bucky knew she wasn’t responsible for terrorists targeting the wealthiest woman and the greatest weapon maker in the world. Not that it stopped her from freaking out about it. 

“Buck. Come on. Did you call? You didn’t, did you. You laid on the floor and let my daughter crawl over you like a jungle gym, and told yourself that you’d call in just a minute. Not good enough sis. Grab your phone and call.”

“He’s gonna be pissed.”

“Yeah, well. So am I, Becks. Anyone that cares about you is going to be pissed at you, because you got yourself hunted down and attacked. You got shot. Yeah, Sam is going to be pissed at you. Call him anyway.”

“Winnie.”

“And be honest. No. Don’t. I know that look, you haven’t told him about this AlternaCap crap. Let him help.”

“He’s not my therapist.”

“Bullshit.”

“He’s not Winn. Sam is helping me out because he’s a great human being and he, I don’t know, is in a competition with Lin Manuel to win Best Human Being Anywhere. He’s not my therapist. I don’t have one.”

“Because you won’t let me pay for one.”

Because Bucky didn't need one. 

Couldn’t say that aloud. 

Winn would yell. 

“I’ll call. Just. Did you get the stuff?”

“Yes. I still think you should burn the damn building down with everything inside, but yes, I got it all. Including that dumbass sweatshirt that got you into all this in the first place.”

“Thanks Winn.”

“I’m going to get Elli set up with a new snack and a game before she figures out the safety lock on the paint again. You are going to call Sam, or so help me god Becks, I will drag your ass to Stark Tower and yell until Iron Man takes you off my hands.”

Bucky caught the sweatshirt and started pulling it on. Stupid or not, it was her favorite, despite the blood and other stains. She’d call Sam, tell him parts of what was going on, enough for him to steer her in the right direction, and then she’d start packing to move to Siberia. Maybe she could find a nice quiet underground bunker and hide in a freezer for a decade or seven. 

Winn stepped into Elli’s room, voice bright and happy, asking if they wanted to play with crayons or build a tower. 

Bucky stepped into the hall.  

Surrounded by strangers was as close to privacy as could be had in New York. 

Two rings in, Sam picked up. 

“Barnes, how’ve you been?”

“I’ve--”

“Because I thought you were gonna call me every day after that little breakdown you had so I wouldn’t have to check police reports every morning to see if you’d had a problem. Huh? What happened to checking in, Barnes? Get outsmarted by your phone?” She grinned, stepping out of the building. Sam’s endless sass let her feel human. “But really, scared the hell out of me. What’s up, and why haven’t I heard from you?”

“Been a busy couple days.”

“You pick up a gig?”

“More like busy for my brain.”

“Same problem as whatever it was that set you off before?”

“Yeah actually.” Becks started walking aimlessly. South, because why not. “Ok, Sam, I know you’re not really my therapist, and I know that you don’t actually have to do the whole patient confidentiality shit, but on this one…”

“You into some shit? cause I know a guy.”

“Just need you to promise you won’t go around skywriting this. Or, you know, ever mentioning it to anyone ever.”

“Course. Not a word.”

It took half a block of walking, bracing herself up, encouraging herself, before she managed to say it. “I’m Alternacap.”

Silence. 

More silence. 

Bucky looked at her phone to see if it had dropped.

Still silence. 

“Sam?”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope.”

“Yeah you are.”

“Sam, I’m not, I’m wearing the damn shirt right now, you want me to send you a selfie? There’s no nazis around right now, but who the fuck knows, it’s New York you can find anything here, gimme five, I’ll get a candid shot of me punching one.”

“Fuck.” soft by sincere, Sam cursed, “You told me you’d risked probation, and that someone was trying to get closer to you, and that you were uncomfortable with it. Did you -- wait. Bucky. Someone was being pushy. Is Captain America getting all manifest destiny in your life?”

“What?”

“Is it Captain America?”

“I met the guy. Twice. He’s an ass. He’s also two hundred and fifty pounds of all american beefcake and earnest do-gooder nonsense. But he’s still an ass.”

“Yeah, you got that right.” Sam chuckled.

“And it’s not him that’s the big problem it’s that….” Bucky trailed off, staring at the door to a warehouse, processing Sam’s tone. His knowledgeably concurring tone. “You’ve met Steve Rogers?”

“You could say that.”

That wasn’t the tone of a man who had shaken Captain America’s hand at a VA event. That wasn’t even the tone of a man who was around him for a few hours. That was the same tone that Winnie used talking about Bucky; long suffering, exasperated, and fond.

“Sam. Your last name. If I’m wrong about this, you can mock me until the sun burns out, but Sam. Last name.”

“Look, Barnes --”

“Oh, my, fuck. I know your name. It’s Wilson. Sam Wilson. I thought you just happened to have the same -- but. You are. You. Oh fuck. Did they put you on me all those months ago? Did Stark track me down? Is this why those nazis were around?”

“Hey, Barnes, deep breaths with me, you hear? If you black your ass out on the streets of New York someone’ll steal your kidney. So. In, two, three. Out, two, three. Again.”

Instinct kicked in, habit overwhelmed her, and Bucky did as Sam ordered. 

Her body calmed down. 

Her mind whirled. 

Sam Wilson.

Her not-therapist who was only sort of related to the VA, and sometimes dropped off the earth for days without explanation, was Sam Wilson. The Falcon. An Avenger. 

Now she really couldn’t talk to him about how to flee the state.

“You still dying on me Barnes?”

“You’re an Avenger.”

“Yeah. I am. So I happen to know a hell of a lot about the guy that’s been bothering so much, and he wouldn’t be doing this if he thought you --”

“Not Rogers. It’s -- uh -- It’s not him that’s been, uh.”

“Stark?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll talk with her, I’ll get Steve to help me out and we’ll sit her down, okay Bucky? Can you tell me what the pair of them have done? Because you spent a lot of time hysterical talking to me, which means you spent even more than that not talking to me, so you list it out, and I’ll walk em through --”

“Sam. I don’t think I can keep-- Thank you. For your help, but. I can’t. You’re. And I’m? I can’t do that. This. Can’t do this.” 

“Bucky, hang on for me ok?”

“No, nope. You told me that I needed to learn to express my desires and needs. Well, this is one of them. I need you to not. And I need them to not. Just. Everyone. All of the Avengers need to Not. You get that?”

She thwacked her head against the drain pipe a couple times, half hidden in an alley where she could have her newly scheduled breakdown in peace.

“Bucky, look, you were telling me last time that the reason you--”

“Stop.”

“--weren’t comfortable--”

“Sam. Stop.”

“No, I don’t think I will. I have been hearing those idiots talk about how great AlternaCap is for ages now, and you are actually a better person than --”

“No I’m not Sam.”

“--don’t you interrupt me when I’m saying nice things to you.”

Bucky held onto the wall, thought about her breathing and tried to imagine a world where people would be happy to see her standing next to the Avengers. She came up with one or two, but they came with a backdrop of flying pigs, so she wouldn’t place a bet on it happening any time soon. 

“Look, Bucky, you’ve known me a year now. Found each other on that forum about hammertech weapons, and I know I told you that I’m not your therapist, and legally I’m not, but Bucky, Becks, you’ve known me a year. Do you trust me?”

She didn't answer. 

She didn’t get to answer. 

The light from the end of the alley cut off, and she found herself staring at a dozen figures in tac gear. No insignia, and they were breaking the uniform code. So, at best, it was an alphabet soup agency coming to intimidate her. Far more likely was that it was Hydra. Actual Hydra. Not the weak-tea wannabes she’s met. Not the low level runners that had started this mess. This was a strike team. 

And the sum total of her weapons was the phone in her hand, the non-responsive arm at her side, and, oh hey, one of those garbage lids with the hole in the middle.

Bucky thought she heard Sam’s voice, still gentle and therapeutic, as she shifted to a fighting stance. When they didn’t react, she shouted, “What? Is Hydra scared of some crippled girl now?” and pitched the phone at them before lunging for whatever protection a holey shield could offer. 

The dart caught her in the stomach while she was turned, and she was unconscious before she hit the ground.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Steve watched her throughout the afternoon. 

Because having a hovering mother hen was a great way to get Toni to do something she didn't want. Except it kind of was. She hated it enough that eventually she would give in just to make it stop. Toni could admit that about herself. 

Until that happened, Toni was trying to decide what she wanted. 

No. That wasn’t it. What she wanted was to chase Barnes down, bring her back to the tower, give her a new arm, beat on the US government until they paid out reparations, and spend some time between Becks’ thighs. All that was well developed and explored. The last one with twice as much time, and quadruple the guilt afterwards.

The plan was conditional on Bucky agreeing to it. 

Getting Buck to agree was conditional on Toni talking to her again. That would mean seeing her in person complete with her most likely broken arm. Hammertech wasn’t good with liquid. And the coffee in the glove had been in the fingers which were the most porous. That meant Bucky was wandering around with only one functional arm, and more likely than not, intermittent electrical shocks. Seeing that sounded like a good way for Toni to fall to pieces. 

Which brought Toni back around to how she was drowning in her personal sampler platter of mental health issues. 

“Toni.”

“Yes, Mon Capitan?”

“You doing okay?”

“Just peachy.”

“So you meant to solder that thing to the table?”

Toni glanced to the side of the project, saw the spots she’d been sloppy, and answered, “Yes, I’ll pop them later, this keeps it in place for me.”

“Sure.” One hand reached across the work table, and he popped the object free. 

“No one is making you stick around Steve, you can go anytime.”

“Then who would be here to tell you that you weren’t paying attention to what you’re working on? What is it by the way?”

It was an arm. Well. Hand. It wouldn’t work, but without a better focus, she’d started working through the structure of the joints in the wrist and fingers, planning where actuators and sensors could go to improve on Hammer’s awful product. It was also rough enough that Steve couldn’t identify it. 

“Sex toy.” She winked. 

“You’re being more obstinate than usual.”

“Pot. Kettle.”

“Toni.”

“Steve.”

“Excuse me Miss, but Mr Wilson is on his way, and it appears to be an urgent matter.” Jarvis interrupted their sniping, and both spun to the doors. Sam had been gone on some minor missions/VA fundraising efforts for the last few days, but hadn’t hit the alarm to assemble. Steve was sliding into Captain America mode, and Toni was ready to call the suit. 

When the doors slid open, and Sam strode in, she was bracing for catastrophe. 

“You two have been bothering one of my vets for the last who knows how long, and you didn’t bother to tell me that Bucky is AlternaCap?” 

Toni exhaled, and relaxed. Not a catastrophe, just her own life.

“Not right now, Wilson.” Steve interrupted. 

“Yes right now, Steve. Just talked to her, and first off, you two have fucked this up.”

“Really not the time, fly boy.” Toni grumbled.

“Second off,” he ignored her, “I was just on the phone with her, and either she accuses everyone she meets of being Hydra, or she’s about to star in another video.”

“What? Where?”

“No clue. Pretty sure she chucked her phone at whoever it was. And I’m pretty sure it broke.”

“We need to—“

“She hasn’t needed our help before this, calm your ridiculous pectorals, Cap.”

It was true. Bucky was very good at nazi punching. 

There was no reason to panic. 

Toni kept herself calm until Jarvis started pulling security cameras in the area. 

She’d spoken too soon. 

Definitely a catastrophe.


	5. Tiny-Dicked-Mother-Bitches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hydra is a modern Terror cell that prefers to use modern communication tools.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got a little darker. Still within Canon typical violence range, but, well, Hydra is as Hydra does.  
> Also, as always, A thousand thanks to Meph, who helped me find what was wrong and helped me fix it and reread it when I had rewritten the thing.

“Oh my GOD do you ever shut up?” Bucky asked mid groan when the cattle prod pulled away. It had been six-ish hours since she’d woken up in an improvised cell and an unknown stretch since they’d grabbed her. The parts of her that were made of person were unhappy with her treatment, and the parts of her that were made of metal were _really_ unhappy with her treatment.

Arms bound to heavy chain that kept them stretched towards opposite walls while she knelt in something she really hoped wasn’t what it looked like, ankles tied together, shoes missing, but her sweatshirt weirdly still in place, Bucky could categorically say it was the worst situation she had found herself in. It was about on par with the convoy in terms of danger, but this one had another factor. In Afghanistan, there was screaming. Here, there was a Hydra asshole who liked the sound of his own voice.

Somehow, the monologuing was worse than a lost arm.

“No, seriously,” she half slurred, “You’ve been talking the whole time. Are you - _agh_ \- trying to scare me? You aren’t scary, you tiny dicked mother bitches. You’re the guy the boss left behind, and apparently you don’t want me dead, so this is just annoying. Go get a Starbucks and have a nap.”

“The Might of Hydra should scare you, little girl.”

“Doesn’t.”

“We have --”

“Also, I’m not a little girl.”

“--risen from the ashes of --”

“I’m a woman fuck you very much.”

“--our failures to reach greater heights.”

“You sound like such an asshole when you say that. Did you know that? Did you know you sound like an asshole? Because if this is news, I’m happy to elaborate. Maybe offer some tips on how to no--” She cut off on a scream as the prod rammed into her ribs again.

“You will learn to behave little girl, or there will be nothing left for them to bargain for. We will take you to pieces, and sell them back one at a time.”

He sounded like he was ramping into another lecture of vague threats and half baked torture descriptions. Maybe if he’d been better spoken, or more intimidating, she’d had been better behaved.

Instead, she mumbled, “asshole,” one last time as she blacked out.

 

* * *

 

“Steven Grant Rogers calm down, you aren’t helping anything and you’re scaring my bots.”

“They took her!”

“I know!”

“Hydra took her!”

“I Know!”

“They --”

“CAP! We Know! Now get a grip on your damn panicked ass or get out of my lab. If you can’t keep yourself calm, you’re making it harder for me to work which means they will have her longer.” Toni punctuated the ultimatum with a coffee cup pitched at his head.

It missed, but the coffee inside didn’t.

Steve froze, with coffee dripping down his shirt, and the anger dissipated.

“If we had…”

“I know Steve.”

Sixteen hours since Sam had come to berate them, and all three of them had crossed the twenty four hour mark without sleep. Steve could, thanks to the serum, keep going for another twenty four, but it couldn’t stop him having a tantrum.

It had taken barely an hour for them to find a security feed from a bodega that showed Bucky tossed into the back of a van. Six hours later, Toni had narrowed the possible offenders down to a splinter branch of Hydra, or the root of the whole Hydra infestation. Ten more hours of working, and all Toni could give Steve was confirmation that it was one or the other and not something in the middle ground.

Steve didn’t take it well.

Now, tantrum subsided, she could see the damage the revelation had inflicted. Proud and delighted and amused as they had been at Bucky Barnes punching her way through New York’s nazi problem, he hadn’t stopped to think about the cause.

“If I had done the job, she wouldn’t be there now.”

“You were busy playing frozen hide and seek in a glacier, and you’d just taken down the most powerful head in their multi-headed mess at the cost of your own life, don’t stand there thinking you didn’t do enough.”

Steve nodded, once.

“I’ll,” he paused, “I’ll see if the FBI has found anything.”

“Good, Sam should be back from--”

“Miss,” Jarvis interrupted, “a video has been posted to Youtube.”

“Don’t suppose it’s one of Bucky punching her way out of a van is it?”

“No, Miss.”

Toni shivered, letting her eyes close for a long, bracing breath, and gestured for it to play.

 

* * *

 

“How nice of you to join us, sergeant.”

“Is that supposed to be impressive? You knowing I was a sergeant? It’s not. It’s public record. Why are people always doing that? It’s not impressive. Ooh, wow, you can use Google, I’m so scared.”

“And your more recent endeavors? Are they public record as well?”

It had been… a quantity of time. Some. An amount. That was all Becks could say with certainty. A quantity of time had passed since Chatty Nazi Guy zapped her into a nap. Now she had Chatty Nazi Guy #2 who was better spoken, but still rather obnoxious.

“Aw Jeez, I didn’t know everyone knew that I got the extra shift at the shop. Golly, it’s sure nice to know people care about the little guy.”

He was stereotypical. Shaved ridiculously close, dressed in a suit with enough bulk it had to be hiding a protective vest, and feigning disinterest while actually being pissed the fuck off.

“If you need further motivation to speak honestly, I am certain my colleague would be happy to return.”

“You’re planning to annoy me to death?”

“We know who you are. You’re still wearing your… uniform.”

“It’s a sweatshirt. Twenty-nine ninety-nine on Amazon. Free shipping. Proceeds go to reconstruction efforts. You wanna link?”

“Do you think the real Captain will sit by while his Alternate is killed in front of the nation?”

“I think Captain America has bigger issues than you incompetent fucks stealing someone that bought his merch.”

“You made yourself more than that when you deviated from Hydra’s plans.”

“If all it takes to fuck your plans is for one crippled lesbian to punch a couple guys, than y’all have gone downhill. Anyone would do that.”

“As useful as you would have been to us had you come when intended, this new role you have taken may pay even greater dividends. We thought to give the Avengers a chance to bargain for you. Perhaps not. If you’re worth so little, why should we not kill you now?”

Bucky sneered, trying to keep the guy talking long enough he’d tell her something useful, or step close enough she could headbutt him. So far, no luck. But, nice as it sounded to not get beaten on anymore, she wasn’t looking to die in this cell.

“Nope, you can’t kill me yet. Know why? Because you’re a terror cell, and it’s right there in the name. You’re supposed to invoke terror. Can’t drag me in front of a camera and kill me when I’m not scared of you. You grabbed my ass off the street so you could prove to someone how scared I’d be of the ‘real’ Hydra, not the little boys that I’ve been fucking up. But if you shoot me right now, I’m gonna die flipping you off, and that’s no good for your PR. If you don’t do it on camera, no one who has ever met me is gonna believe I even flinched at you. You wanna kill me and make an example of me? You wanna teach the world that AlternaCap is scared of you? That I’m scared of you? You gotta actually make me scared first, and listen you dried-out cunt, you’ve got miles to go before I even find you intimidating.”

A blow from behind slumped her forward, and she never noticed the camera in the corner.

 

* * *

 

“Cap.”

“Toni.”

“I’m gonna kill her.”

“I’ll help.”

“I’m not kidding, I’m gonna save her life just so I can kill her myself.”

“I’ll be by your side.”

“And then I’m going to bring her back again, and I’m gonna marry that ridiculous disaster of a lesbian.”

“Be by your side for that too.”

 

* * *

 

“Oh, yeah, look at me, I’m a big ugly Hydra fucker, getting ready to beat up a cripple, I’m so scary. Look at me with my big dumb stick, I make sure I always have it with me so no one notices how tiny my dick is. _Fuck_!”

The big dumb stick hurt.

For the show of it, Bucky worked the blood and spit in her mouth to a lather before hocking it at him.

“That all you got?”

The next blow cracked a rib, and the backswing caught her jaw. Not expecting it, she bit her cheek and grinned around the pain while her chin painted red.

“Don’t quit your day job,” she garbled before spitting out more blood, “Bleagh, ugh. You’re not great at this you know. Maybe take some night classes.” Sure, only about half the words were clear enough to be understood around the pain and injuries, but it was worth it for the frustration in the guy’s eye.

It had been at least a day and a half because Hydra Goon with stick had substantial stubble. He hadn’t when she first saw him.  He wasn’t handling her continued insubordination well.

Better than his boss though.

At some point they were going to get bored and kill her anyway.

She couldn’t stall forever.

The best hope she had was that Steve Rogers was a stubborn bastard, and Toni Stark could find anything. Whether they liked her or not, Hydra guy had talked about the Avengers, so they had to know. They’d come.

She’d stall, and they’d come find her.

“Bitch,” He snarled, hand in her hair, “When you break, we’ll make sure everyone sees it.”

“Buddy,” she smiled, “When I break, It’ll be sitting in a bathtub with a tub of ice cream, and no one is ever gonna see it.” The clunk of the stick landing on the ground preceded the buzz of the prod turning on. In a moment she’d be screaming. First though, “Oh I’m sorry was your arm getting tired, do you need to take a break, kid? Maybe do some stretches?”

 _Fuck_ , but she hated electricity.

 

* * *

 

Twitter was pissed.

The videos were posted publicly to youtube, and it had been noticed that they were still coming. ~~Youtube~~ Toni took them down as soon as they were found, but the internet being what it was, everyone knew.

And, again, Twitter was _pissed_.  

A few hated Becks for being a woman, but the rest loved her even more. Which meant they were even angrier that she was still in Hydra’s hands.

#GetHerBack and #TinyDickedMotherbitches were both trending.

Not as high as one though.

#ShesMyHero

 

* * *

 

Three days.

Twelve videos.

Toni had it narrowed to the North Eastern United States.

The team was ready to start kicking in the door of every office, home, and factory on the eastern seaboard, but knew that wouldn’t do any good.

Natasha arrived from DC with murder eyes, and a disc she silently plugged into Toni’s station. At first glance, it seemed to be evidence that the US Army had been selling undesirables to Hydra for decades. They’d carefully defunded the VA, and made sure that mental health among veterans got brushed aside so it would be easy to believe the vanished vets were suicide victims.

At second glance there was a scheme to move the best soldiers into Hydra’s hands.

A third glance brought in the whispers of experimentation.

A fourth confirmed it all.

And they had Becks.

They couldn’t prove it yet, but Bucky had been on the Hydra wish list for a long while before Afghanistan. When they had an opportunity to hit her with a dishonorable discharge, they’d taken it, not knowing that instead of getting angry and joining with evil, she’d get angry and punch evil.

Steve was in the gym on his fifth heavy bag.

Toni kept blinking away tears.

There was a still from the third video on the screen next to the search code. Bucky, smiling around bloody teeth, and half winking. It was right after a thirty second spree of insults to her torturer’s dick, and right before she’d started screaming again. Insulting their dicks was Bucky's preferred subject, which was a habit most soldiers picked up. 

If she ignored the red, it was like the backtalk in the cafe.

“Miss.”

“Another one?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Alert the team, start it playing, and bring up every bit of metadata you can find.”

 

* * *

 

There was a new level of fun in Bucky’s world.

Shortly after they’d tossed a bucket of water over her to wake her up, goon number five had rammed the cattle prod into the juncture between her shoulder and the metal of the arm, and it hadn’t stopped spasming since. Little things, twitches -- they ached deep across her chest -- but they weren’t unbearable. They felt like they were building up to something, though.

Like they were practice spasms. And normally, Buck would be trying to figure out how to put that to use. The lack of response from it, and the towering pain in the rest of her made it impossible.

It had been long enough in her cell Beck was starting to doubt the Avengers gave a damn at all. Twitter be damned. That was both what she feared, and what she sorta expected. The Avengers couldn’t go saving a nobody just because she was a sassy bastard. Besides, Becks told Sam to leave her be. She told Steve to fuck off. And once Toni knew about the convoy, wouldn’t want to save her anyway.

Every fiber of her being wanted to break down sobbing, wanted to admit defeat and beg and cower for the Avengers to come help her, for Toni to blow a hole through the roof and get her out of there. She wanted to break. She wanted to give in. But like hell was she going to give Hydra the pleasure.

For the first time, the door swung open while Bucky was conscious, and she saw the painted sign on the wall, declaring her to be in the something Amesbury something Factory. Great. Not like she had any way to tell someone that.

Not like she had a way to make them put her on a camera.

And if they did, they’d edit out her yelling the location.

Which was only going to happen if they thought she’d broken. Which she wouldn’t permit. A little while longer. They’d come. They had to come. It’s what the Avengers did. Last minute daring antics.

They’d come.

Her arm spasmed again as the goon of the day walked inside.

 

* * *

 

Natasha dosed Toni’s coffee to put her to sleep for a few hours on day two.

Clint dosed Toni’s blueberries on the third day.

Now she wasn’t accepting food from anyone.

It wasn’t going to help.

There were so many mistakes in her life that she had them sorted by type and scope and guilt. There were mistakes she made that cost hundreds of lives. There were mistakes that ruined thousands. There were mistakes she made through carelessness, through distraction, through indifference, through naivete. There were things she’d spent years making amends for, and things she’d never found a way to fix. There were the errors she committed that the world threw at her feet at every public appearance, and there were ones that only she knew about.

Letting Becks die was somewhere in between.

On all counts.

One life couldn’t measure against her years as the Merchant of Death.

It wasn’t happening because Toni didn’t care: She was trying to trace the videos, writing code as quickly as Jarvis could test it.

There would be a backlash from the public over it, but it wouldn’t last long.

Even Steve would find a way to move past it. He’d already lost so many to Hydra; he’d convert the pain to vengeance and make them pay.

The swirl of tension behind the reactor told Toni she was going to carry this for decades.

She’d found the archives of Bucky’s online presence, and read posts and replies defending the Avengers at large, and Toni in particular. She knew that despite having every reason to, Becks admired her and considered her ‘even more beautiful inside than out.’

A sob caught in her chest as she found herself thinking the same of Becks.

Toni swiped at her cheeks, glad her mascara was long gone. Gladder still that the team was clustered upstairs.

It wasn’t like she and Bucky had something. They’d only talked a dozen times, almost always about coffee. They weren’t a couple. Toni’s imagination painting the woman into her life didn't make it a truth. There were people that knew Bucky better that deserved to mourn her. Toni didn’t. She was just the woman that couldn’t convince a broke lesbian to accept a pile of cash and world class protection from evil.

Jarvis beeped quietly, deferring to Toni’s mood, and she brought up the newest batch of code, tested and ready to deploy.

She’d sleep in the twenty minutes it took to process. Put her head down, close her eyes if nothing else.

They weren’t going to find Bucky in time, but they’d find those responsible, and when they did, Toni was would make them pay for the possibility they’d stolen.

 

* * *

 

When she was lying in the sand, bleeding out, Sergeant Rebecca Barnes had been silent, keeping to her training, staying strong, while she waited for rescue. It didn’t come before she lost consciousness.

Chained to a wall and bloody in the basement of a factory, captive and waiting for a saviour, civilian Rebecca Barnes finally gave up hope. No one was coming.

 

* * *

 

The latest video was bad.

Steve didn’t need Nat to list out all the apparent injuries to know that. The way Becks’ screaming had changed in pitch from anger to fear. The way the taunts evaporated. The way she flinched and stopped making eye contact.

Captain America knew they were running out of time. Steve didn’t want to accept that.

Jarvis pinged from the ceiling, alerting them to another video, and the team braced. It was ahead of schedule. Hydra had been nothing if not punctual with their snuff films. Different was bad.

Steve’s thoughts echoed what Bucky had taunted them with on the first day: that they couldn’t kill her unless she was terrified. Stronger men had crumpled under less than she’d withstood. The camera jostled and refocused, zooming out to show how she was bound between the walls.

To show how she had broken.

She was trembling and small and --

“Quinjet! Now!”

Toni’s voice boomed through the room and for a moment, Steve was stuck staring at the monitor. One of the team hauled him sideways, and his mind caught up while Nat lifted the jet off the pad.  A red blur shot past them before they were airborne.

“Iron Man, what do you have?” Nat asked while swinging wide around a police chopper.

“It’s live.”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course I’m sure! It’s a live feed. J’s tracking it. It’s north. Go north. Start with that, he’ll keep you up to speed.”

“How does this--”

“Amesbury! Stark!” Clint shouted, “She’s using morse. Her hand. Amesbury--”

“Narrowing the search parameters to Amesbury, Massachusetts, Miss.”

“Yeah! Yes! Damn right Barnes! You go, Girl! Factory. Amesbury. Factory again. That’s all she knows. Fuck, she must know she’s on camera now. They must have told her. Dammit! That’s it. A factory in Amesbury. Stark, is that enough?” Clint yelled, eyes locked on the screen.

“More than.” Toni snarled. The air shook a moment later with the boom of her going supersonic.

“Natasha?” Steve asked.

“Fast as we can Captain.”

 

* * *

 

This was it.

Endgame.

There was a camera, and as they had told her repeatedly, it was live.

That had gotten through the haze of dissociation to stick in her mind as they once again rambled at her. She didn't know how long they spent getting ready for this, but it was enough time for the aftershock jolts up her spine had eased. She could think clearly again.

Live camera meant she had a chance. Good news for her. In theory. It also meant they had what they wanted, and were ready to wrap this up.

Big risk, but on the whole, good news.

Very exciting.

Very encouraging.

Except for the gun at the base of her skull.

Maybe not so much with the clear thinking.

Fuck. If nothing else she was going to make sure that the Avengers got a chance to live up to their name. They could tell everyone that AlternaCap got grabbed, and how it was a bad thing to go against Hydra on your own, but the Avengers would do your memory proud so you could thank them. If you weren’t dead.

Or something.

And she was going to piss off Hydra on her way to the exit.

Coherency was a memory, and linear thought was a slippery bitch.

Chatty Hydra Guy #4, who was new, was wearing some ugly mask next to her and talking to the camera.

Once she’d been sure they were live she’d started signalling the only information she had in morse code. Thank god they were such fans of monologues. If Hydra wasn’t so damn dramatic, she’d have been dead two minutes into this bullshit. When the effort of squeezing her hand got to be too much, Bucky tuned into the terrorist beside her.

“No one is strong enough to resist the might of Hydra, and those of you who dare to try will meet a similar fate, cowering at the feet of your masters while you pray for your pathetic life. Not even the strongest amongst you will survive in the face of our might. None of you will--”

“Sorry to hear about your tiny dick, dude.” Bucky interrupted in a rasp.

It was increasingly likely she was going to die on TV. Internet? Cable? Something. And like fuck was she going to let it happen looking like these assholes had won. Pain wasn’t fear. Pain was physiology. They wanted her to cower.

But this was her end, and she’d cause trouble until it came.

“You may think that your wit or your confidence will save you. You may think that your Captain America will protect you--” He backhanded her. “--but there is no one strong enough to withstand us. Surrender now, join us, join our cause, our army, and find yourself on the winning side of history. Unless you wish to end like this petty hero.”

The guy with the gun tilted her head up to better catch the light.

“Suck my massive metaphoric dick, you petulant slut.” The blow caught her off guard, and she interrupted without knowing where he was in his speech. “You pistol whip all the pretty girls, or just the ones you’re scared of?”

Buzzing caught her attention before the prod returned, rammed into her torso on the left side. Pain shrieked in her ears and threaded through it was a whine that she was half sure wasn’t coming from her mouth.

The arm twitched harder, recycling the electrical pulses from the prod.

The boss hydra guy gestured to the flunky.

Her craptastic arm shorted out, and wrenched towards her chest.

A chunk of concrete ripped from the wall as the chain tore free, tossing Bucky to the side as the gun fired and the roof blew away.

It was still a slab of useless circuitry and steel, and Bucky was beat to hell and leashed to the wall, but she managed to deck the boss in the neck when the flying concrete put him on the ground nearby. Then her body decided that the ground sounded nice.

So it was from there, still on camera, that Bucky watched a red and gold suit land and decimate the remaining bastards in the space of seconds.

Bucky was too exhausted to catcall as Toni Stark’s helmet retracted. Deserved it though. Her hair was a mess, and her eyes were murderous. Absolutely gorgeous. Like she’d wandered in from a shoot for a charity calendar. To her credit, she secured the room and crammed the various bleeding nazis into a closet before turning to look at Bucky.

That was because Bucky’s crush was a goddamn professional.

Now would be a great time for some flirting to get rid of the fear around Toni’s eyes.

Not an option though.

Damn Hydra.

Damn gunshot wounds.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> exhale. 
> 
> There was never any chance this wouldn't end deliriously happy, and you have my word that she isn't dead. I'm just a dramatic bastard.


	6. Pain Meds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky on pain meds might be enough to permanently break Toni's brain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not dead. Just very busy. 
> 
> These women are such disasters.

What did people even do while sitting in hospital rooms? Phone games? Watch TV? Stare awkwardly the unconscious reason they were in the hospital room to confirm the ongoing intake of oxygen? 

Boring. Boring. Boring, and there were machines plus an entire medical staff specifically hired to ensure the last one. 

Boring. That’s what it was, and despite Toni’s best efforts to pretend she was wholly invested in the continued beeping of the machines attached to Bucky, she knew enough to have read the notes and understood that Bucky was going to be fine. The gunshot wound was through the meaty part of her leg, where it dodged anything critical. The beatings had been performative more than damaging. The cattle prod had been terrible and had fried the mechanics of the already crappy Hammertech arm, but it had also served to ground the current out. So instead of serious internal damage, she had a few burns and a dead prosthetic. 

Which left Toni bored. 

In theory, she could leave. 

However.

Based on what Sam had said, and what Steve had said, and the way that Becks had looked half delighted and half vomity when Toni found her, Toni felt that being there when the woman woke was the least she could do. She didn’t want there to be some grand misunderstanding that Toni had saved her from Hydra only to immediately abandon her. That wouldn’t be a good look. That wouldn’t help Toni’s goals involving late night coffee and crop top jammies. 

So yes, Toni would be staying in the hospital room until Becks woke up. 

But she was so bored. 

All she had was her tablet and the lingering question of what other people did in similar circumstances. Normally she was the one unconscious in the bed, so this was a foreign experience for Toni.

Somewhere around hour two, she established that it was perfectly normal to bring presents for a person in a hospital bed. That was a highly normal thing to do. Being as she was Toni Stark though, she didn’t order flowers or balloons, since she felt those were pretty strong assumptions to make for a person. Maybe they didn’t like roses. Maybe they didn’t like flowers. Maybe they were allergic. And, both balloons and flowers slowly slumped down until they had to be thrown away which was a weird message to deliver to an injured person. Were people trying to reference the frailty of human life or imply their inevitable decay and death immediately after they recovered?

Counterintuitive, that’s what they were.

Stupid.

All of that was why, five more hours later, when Bucky’s various machines indicated she was waking up, Toni was seated at her side, without a flower in sight, but an almost completed schematic for a new arm on the tablet in her lap.

Becks made a noise not unlike U’s confused warble and tried four times to lift her head before she managed to locate Toni at her left. 

The noise shifted into something interrogative. 

So pretty. 

Not fair. 

Toni had been in more than her share of hospital beds and usually looked like hell on toast. Bucky was making bruises look good. 

Definitely not fair. 

“Uh, yes. Hi. Becks. Bucky. Rebecca. You. Hello to you. So I don’t know how much you remember from the whole daring rescue thing that happened, but, clearly, you were rescued. Obviously. Since you’re not chained to the walls now. Which is great. You’re in the Tower. You were in surgery for six hours, and then it took you another eight to wake up. Which is great. Right on schedule -- actually -- you’re about six minutes early. Very punctual, I’m sure the army is very proud of you. 

“Speaking of the military, Black Widow found a bunch of horrifying stuff about all that which you don’t need to hear about right now--or ever if you don’t want. Avengers can take care of it. Will. Definitely will take care of it. It’s pretty much every bad dystopian movie plot about soldiers all rolled into one and apparently you were catnip to the bad guys.” Toni was definitely babbling in the face of the very pretty, utterly silent woman in the bed. “Not that you have anything to worry about now. You’re in my place. The Tower is great. Cap’s outside. So is Nat. Black Widow. She’s terrifying. So you’re totally safe. No Hydra here. Guaranteed.”

Bucky blinked hard, looking around the room in bewildered confusion, and tried for a word that may have been “Where?”

“I didn’t get you any flowers. I should have, right? Now, looking at it, that would have been the better choice. Who doesn’t love peonies, right? And if they started to wilt I could just get you more. I should have gone with flowers. Or live flowers. Like on a plant. In dirt. Those don’t die so fast. I didn’t. I went-- Or balloons. Balloons are also great. Again, sorry. Went with a different choice.”

The twitch that shifted Bucky’s torso but not the disabled metal arm made Toni wince. 

“Yeah, that. So that thing is totally dead now. You’re fine. Arm is dead. But hey, great news, I had a bit of time and a deep and abiding hatred for Justin Hammer, so I may have designed you an arm. A new one. That, yeah, works. Better. So much better. Give me a day and I’ll have nerve response locked down, but I want to run this by Cho or Johns Hopkins or maybe it’d be faster just to buy out all the engineers that did the design you have? Not the point. Not what I should be talking about. 

“You’re exhausted and I should stop bothering you, but I wanted. I guess. I wanted you to see me here when you woke up. Your sister can take over if you want. Her kid - adorable by the way - was freaked out by all the stuff that’s currently attached to you, but she’ll be back. Your sister. So it’s fine. You’re fine. Your arm will be fine. I have been talking for too long, haven’t I? Jarvis would tell me. Jarvis, this is definitely too much, but has it crossed to really ridic--”

“You’re pretty.”

Slurred as it was by pain meds and injury, that declaration made Toni blush. 

“Pretty.” Bucky repeated in a soft drawl, not dissimilar to how Nat sounded when talking to a kitten, and lifted her non-dead arm to reach for Toni’s face. 

Staff stepped into the room to check on the patient, and Toni, still dumbstruck and awkward, fled to the safety of her penthouse before she did something revealing, like blush.

 

* * *

 

Steve, Natasha and Sam watched as Toni hurried into the kitchen, grabbed the entire carafe of coffee, and vanished into a stairwell. 

Never even noticed they were there. 

“Was Toni…” Steve started. 

“She was.”

“I’ve never seen Toni blush.” Sam added with a puzzled tone.

“I have,” Nat allowed, “but it was after she’d almost died and Pepper kissed her.”

“You don’t think that’s why now?”

“Pepper isn’t here.”

Steve rolled his eyes at Sam missing the point so entirely, and waited on Nat’s assessment. 

“If Becks woke up and kissed Toni it would take a crowbar to separate them, assuming Toni didn’t repulsor anyone that attempted it.”

“So what would make her blush and then run away?”

“Did you read the archives of Bucky’s social media that Toni collected, Steve? Bucky has some very strong opinions on Toni, all of which are positive.” It had been an exhausting few days, so Steve was willing to forgive how long it took him to catch up to Nat. The grin that stretched his cheeks until they hurt was answered by the amused tilt of her lips. “Of course, we would need to establish some manner of surveillance to be certain.”

“Oh hell no, you are not spying on her.”

“Of course not. We’d simply be keeping a close eye on someone important to us.”

Sam huffed, stole the plate with the rest of the banana bread, and made the clear choice to ignore them both. 

“Should we tell Clint?”

“I’m down.” Clint announced, appearing from god only knew where, and grabbing the piece of bread out of Steve’s hand. Munching on it, he continued, “Can’t do this with cameras. Gotta be in person. After the week we had, we deserve a good thing.”

“Spying on your teammate is a good thing?” Steve asked.

“Spying on my friend as she flirts with the amazingly badass woman she likes that somehow got Toni Stark to blush? That is one hundred percent a good thing. Now. Who’s got first shift.”

“That’s up to you, boys. I’m headed back to DC in a few hours, I expect regular reports.”

“Same goes for you, Nat.”

 

* * *

 

If the Black Widow ever decided to take on a protege, Winnie Barnes would be a finalist. Nearly eidetic memory wasn’t enough for Toni to work out what the hell kind of magic Winnie had pulled. One minute she was eating a donut and waiting for the blender to stop, six floors up, wearing shop clothes that desperately needed to be washed, and the next she was back in the medbay. If her life was any less surreal, she’d have thought she’d had a stroke, but at this point, being surrounded by terrifyingly competent women was a perk not a problem. 

There was still sugar stuck to her fingers when she arrived, baffled and harried. Bucky was half-sitting on the bed, surrounded by machines that were still beeping reassuringly. 

That made sense. 

Toni had only managed to hide for half a day. Of course Bucky was still a mess and hooked into a dozen things keeping track of her health. And by mess, Toni meant gorgeous. 

“See, Becks? Toni didn’t abandon you, she was just upstairs.” Winnie stated, “Now is that enough to keep it in your head or does my toddler understand object permanence better than you do?”

“Hi.” Bucky was stuck in that loopy voice. 

“Hey, uh. Not abandoned, just, uh, staying out of the way. Working on your arm.”

“Arm?”

“Yep, no flowers? No balloons? Made you an arm?” When Bucky’s face stayed confused, Toni turned to Winnie for help.

“Yeah, pain meds hit her pretty hard, but she’s gotta stay on them.”

“So was there a reason you dragged me here?”

“So my sister could see you.”

“Why?”

“She missed you. And she wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“Right, I, uhm.” Toni went to rub her sugary fingers on her clothes to clean them and paused when they wasn’t a clean patch available. Lacking choices, and being a selective moron, Toni licked her fingers clean.

“You’re the first woman I ever masturbated to and one time I said your name during sex.” Bucky announced.

“Yeah, my kid sister doesn’t do great with pain meds.”

“I have a picture of you in your workshop and you have grease smeared across the edge of your bra and I kept it under my pillow--”

“That’s enough of that, Becks.” Winnie clapped a hand over her sister’s mouth, and tilted her head to the side. “Take your fingers out of your mouth, Miss Stark.”

She did. 

“So meds make her say crazy things, then?”

“Not really.”

“What do you mean?” Toni’s mouth couldn’t be trusted. She could see what the answer was going to be, but her mouth asked to hear it anyway. 

“Tends to make her very,  _ very _ , honest.”

And Iron Man ran away for the second time in two days.

 

* * *

 

“This is the best thing that has ever happened.”

“We’ve saved the world, Clint.”

“This is better, Cap.” Clint grinned and turned the phone. “Look at her! She’s blushing and hiding in her hands because of whatever Becks said to her. Toni. Stark. Blushing and flustered. This is the greatest day of my life. They’re going to be the cutest couple. They need a name. Like when the press thought you two were together and ran articles about Stoni, but this time it doesn’t make me gag.”

“Why was that so terrible?”

“Because you’re team dad, and Toni is team mom, and no one wants to think about mom and dad getting on.”

Steve frowned. “This isn’t because you find two women together to be titillating is it? Because that kind of objectification is--”

“Ha, you said titillating.”

“Clint.” 

The reprimanding tone of disappointed Captain America did nothing. 

“But what are we going to call them? Tonky? Ooh, Tonks? There’ll be Harry Potter jokes, but that’s fine.”

“When are you going down to get in position? It’s almost time for Toni’s next check in.”

“Clint--”

“No, I know that face, here. Look at this instead. Look at how happy your best friend is in this picture.” Flicking to another photo, the phone was shoved in Steve’s hands. Steve sighed, and may have made a sound close to a coo. 

That wasn’t his fault. 

He’d never seen Toni look as delighted and happy as she was leaning against the wall outside Bucky’s door. He’d seen her giddy, seen her laughing, seen her triumphant, but he hadn’t ever seen her so happy when she was alone. Prompted by nothing but whatever ridiculous thing Bucky had said, Toni was smiling to herself in the hallway, pink cheeked, and, hard as it was to believe, shy. 

Toni was Iron Man. She didn’t need protection. 

But damn if Steve wasn’t planning to protect the two of them. Handing the phone back, he headed for the elevator, ignoring Clint cheering. He hit the button for the medical floor, and announced, “Buckoni.” 

As the doors slid shut, he heard the archer’s gasp turn into an extended “yesssssss.”

 

* * *

 

The doctors in Avengers Tower were expensive. 

But not just expensive for the hell of it. They were excellent. With all the field trauma they encountered, everyone from the surgeons to the nurses to the phlebotomists were the best people that she could find. 

They were also  _ liars _ . 

The patient will be coherent soon, they said. 

There’s no brain damage, it’s just the meds, so she’ll stop soon, they said. 

Some people take a while to find their equilibrium with opiates, they said. 

Just another couple hours, they said. 

This other pain med will be different, they said. 

Liars. All of them. 

Bucky was high enough to be orbiting Jupiter and would. not. stop. talking. 

According to the rest of the Avengers, who Toni was running into at a higher than expected frequency as she exited the medical floor, Bucky was awkward and overly honest all the time. It was just Toni that was the recipient of lengthy commentary on Barnes’ sexual awakening while watching a news conference about Toni at MIT. 

She’d taken to ducking her head inside, giving Bucky long enough to get a sentence out, and then escaping if it was, once again, deeply personal with a side order of dirty. 

As flattering as it was, it was  _ wrong _ , and bad, and she didn’t need the lecture that Jarvis delivered anyway about respecting boundaries. Or the one Steve gave her when he showed up right after Bucky announced that she wanted to drown between Toni’s thighs. His was mostly about respecting Bucky’s preferences after she was sober, and was delivered in a serious voice that didn’t match the way he was visibly suppressing a giggle. That was fine though. She gave herself a lecture every few hours whenever her brain wandered off into the sewer with images of whatever Becks had last described. 

Toni left her party girl reputation behind in a cave, and one small part of the reclamation of her moral compass was not being like this anymore. She was a damn superhero, if she couldn’t respect the unestablished boundaries of another person’s mind, she didn't deserve the armor. 

But also. 

Pretty girl thought Toni was sexy. 

And that kept fritzing Toni’s brain. 

It was wonderful and terrible and addicting. Which was why, four days after pulling her out of Hydra captivity, Toni was still checking in three times a day. If she was less of a masochist, she’d have let the others keep her updated. Instead. 

“I’m stronger than you, so if you put a vibrator in my arm I could hold you down and make you come so many times that--”

Pulling the door shut with a slam, Toni stalked off to find the doctors for another round of desperate yelling.

 

* * *

 

Whatever Natasha had brought back, it wasn’t good. Normally, Nat stepped off the jet, and slipped out of whatever persona she needed for the mission. Today, she stayed rigid and dangerous, gesturing for Steve and the others to follow her into the room that made a SCIF look like a coffee shop. Whatever she had to say, she was worried about ears. 

“Captain, where is Iron Man?”

“Medical floor.” He didn’t need to check, Toni kept a tight schedule. “We can have Jarvis alert her.”

“Not yet.”

“What did you find?”

She set a drive on the table. “I found their leader.”

“One of them.” He corrected absently, having learned the lesson about Hydra’s mantra. There were always more to replace those that fell. Hydra never had a single leader. Not even Schmidt had been their sole leader in the war. He was a powerful one to be sure, but Hydra didn’t consolidate power. 

“Captain.” Natasha pulled his attention back, “I found their leader.” The repetition made it obvious. “There are splinter cells that aren’t affiliated with the main branch, but those are nothing. We can take them down on a Tuesday afternoon and not get stuck in rush hour coming back. This main branch is held together by one man. It’s enormous, but it can be crippled by cutting off this one head. When two more rise, we’ll be waiting, because that drive has a list of all their agents.”

“How’d you get it?”

Her cheek twitched. No other sign. Steve didn’t want to know what it cost to get this.

“It’s bigger than you think it is, Captain. Deeper and more dangerous. They’ve taken over an organization to hide in plain sight. We’ll need the full team, but first, we’ll need Stark to start cutting off their resources.”

“How long do we have?”

“If she can get into their accounts tonight, we move tomorrow.”

“Jesus.” Sam hissed. Right. The rest of the team. It wasn’t just Steve and Nat. 

“Wait an hour then brief her.” Clint said. No one mentioned that it generally took an hour for Toni to stop grinning like a sap after checking in on Bucky; they all just knew they were giving her this present before it began. 

“All hands on deck,” Nat continued, “We’ll need Rhodes.”

“Agreed. How big is this, Widow? Who is this leader? Where are they hiding?”

She took a breath. Closed her eyes for a moment. 

“Alexander Pierce.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Steve sank into a chair, mouth agape. He wasn’t the only one. 

Hydra had infiltrated Shield. 

 

* * *

 

“Stop stop stop stop stop. Make it stop.”

The audio feed cut out and silence echoed with it.

It was unfair to say that this was the worst thing that had ever happened to her. After all, she’d had an arm blown off. And barely a week ago she’d been kidnapped and tortured in videos the whole world watched. Bucky knew this wasn’t the worst experience of her life. But having the robot in the ceiling play recordings of all of the things she’d said to Toni was sitting at a solid third place finish. 

Dishonorable discharge had been pushed to fourth. 

The doctors had taken her off the opioids that morning, switching her to glorified tylenol, and Bucky had regained control of her internal mute button. There were blurry recollections of Toni visiting, so she’d asked the British robot in the ceiling about it. 

Now here she was: ready to die of embarrassment, and planning the apology letter she’d write. Letter. Definitely. Delivered by mail. Because Bucky was going to beg for sanctuary in Wakanda where she’d need to learn how to live in a jungle and defend against panthers. That was for the best. Anything that didn’t include having to make eye contact with Toni Stark sounded excellent. 

Speaking of which. 

“Uh, Jarvis. Can you make sure no one comes in here? They said they’re discharging me today, but until then?”

“I’m sorry Miss Barnes, safety protocols for a person in your state preclude me from following your request. Is there someone you are seeking to avoid?”

All human life. 

“Toni. And Steve I guess. And Sam Wilson. Actually, let’s just make this an All of the Avengers sort of thing? Is that an option?”

“Of course, miss. However, I can inform you that the Avengers are not currently in residence. They departed before dawn.”

Oh. That was a good thing. That meant that Bucky could run away before she had to self immolate when Toni no doubt showed up to say something about inappropriate sexual objectification of public figures. 

“Miss, your sister has arrived on the medical floor to escort you to her home. Do you wish to grant her entry?”

Bucky’s nod must have been enough, because Winnie walked in a minute later. 

“What, no goodbye party for you, Becks? After they visited so much, I would have thought I’d have to pry you away from them.”

“They left this morning. Avenging, I guess. Jarvis? Is it avenging?”

“I’m not able to answer that query.”

“Yeah, so probably Avengy things.”

“Hm.” Winnie had her lawyer face on, like she was drawing a conclusion and wasn’t planning to share with the class. “You ready to come home with me and convalesce while Elli force feeds you goldfish? She’s moved on to goldfish now. Won’t tolerate cheerios. Congratulations to us both.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” 

Winnie talked idly about how helpful and generous the Avengers had been, how concerned they had been while Bucky was recovering. She mercifully avoided any of the filthy things that Bucky had announced, and said how grateful she was for their help. Something about how she said it sounded like it was a past tense thing. 

Recovering from injuries, outed by Hydra’s dramatics, and with her arm nothing but a slab of steel in a sling, Bucky didn’t have anything to contribute to them. There was no reason they’d be around again. This was lining up perfectly with her plan to never talk to another Avenger again, but Becks didn’t deny that her heart twisted when it seemed like that really might happen.

 

* * *

 

“Toni, when we’re done here, you need to talk to her. She should be off the meds by the time we’re back. I know why you didn’t want to say something when she was still drugged to the gills, but, Toni. You have to talk to her.”

“We are on a mission, Capsicle. Focus up.”

“We are killing time for the next three hours, and you’ve never cared about that before. Don’t dodge the subject.”

Toni sipped the disgusting safehouse coffee. Steve fell silent, and just before he left, she spoke. “You know that she spent a good six months fighting people online who were mean about me? And I think she had a reddit account that she used to fight people who claimed you were a republican. Haven’t stopped to confirm that one though. She’s amazing. Yeah, she’s gorgeous. So gorgeous. She was bleeding on the floor and she still -- yeah. But honestly, she could look like Ross and I’d still want to wrap her up in blankets and watch movies with her. She’s about a thousand times better than I’ll ever be as a human being, and I know what you’re about to say, and shut it. She is. 

“She back-talked Hydra while they were torturing her. She’s pretty much my perfect woman. So, Steve. You really don’t have to worry about me not talking to her. Probably the opposite. Please keep me from doing something crazy like buying her a house and building her an arm and hiring the Iron Rockettes to high kick while I ask her out on a date.”

Bumping her in the arm, he agreed, “Whatever you need. You know we’re all behind you on this.”

“We’re still going to ask her to be an avenger, though, right?”

“Of course.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is definitely a work in progress, but it amuses me, so I figured I would share. If you have thoughts on where it should go, or things you might want to see, I only know the most basic level things, and I'd love to hear from you.


End file.
